


Devil's Hold

by EstrellaQueAdmiro



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Dean Winchester, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Hell Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, damaged sam winchester, hinted sastiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstrellaQueAdmiro/pseuds/EstrellaQueAdmiro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been living with Lisa and Ben as per Sam's dying wish. But when Bobby calls about a young man fitting Sam's description being found in the streets, everything changes. Terrified, confused and seemingly regressed mentally, Sam needs his brother more than ever.<br/>Themes of suicide/self harm throughout, but these will also be pre-warned in each chapter that this occurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean was in a bad mood. He’d got into an argument with a client, and later his boss, over an accusation of doing a half-assed job on a car. He was offended that they’d even think he’d be so lazy at his job, a job he worked hard for to bring some money in. Before that, he’d had a call from Lisa asking him to pick Ben up and take him to baseball, which there was no way he could do. Not in this rush period at work. Even the sounds of his co-workers laughing and joking made the ex-hunter want to break something. He just wanted to get into his beloved Impala and drive far away.  
He knew why he was feeling this way. Sam’s birthday was getting closer. Any reminder of his brother was a bad one; Dean may have dragged himself out of the alcoholism and depression he’d burdened Lisa with for at least three months after Sam took the swan dive, but he’d never truly got over being without his brother. Sam was a forbidden name in the Braeden household.  
Dean finally clocked out and went straight to his favourite bar. He couldn’t face Lisa yet, no doubt she wouldn’t be pleased at his overreaction to being asked to pick up Ben from baseball. He drank his beer slowly, trying to collect his thoughts. Stop thinking about him, he commanded himself, it’ll only make you miserable.  
But he missed Sam. He missed the roadtrips, he even missed the crappy motels and diner food. Hunting felt so wrong without his little brother beside him and even if he’d wanted to go against Sam’s wishes he couldn’t. He couldn’t hunt without Sam. Dean missed Sam’s humour, when it was good, at least, his wisdom, his eager interest in knowledge and learning. Sam made Dean want to learn and explore and discover, he was the reason hunting could be so enjoyable. With the younger Winchester, hunting wasn’t just wielding some weapon and killing a monster, it was analysis, it was researching lore and strategizing. It was as if there was a science to it that Sam himself discovered. He missed Sam’s supportiveness to his brother. Dean only wished he could show his little brother his support. God knows that kid has some self-esteem issues. But that was history now. Sam was dead, downstairs with only Lucifer and Michael, and Adam, for company. Some party.  
Dean was surprised that Lisa even let him stay. After every argument, after every time Lisa had to pick his drunk ass from the floor, he was amazed that she didn’t kick him out. He knew he’d been a nuisance, Lisa and Ben didn’t have to say it for Dean to know, but he was grateful for their acceptance. Without them, he didn’t want to think about what he’d have done. Searched high and low for a way to free Sam from Lucifer’s cage, no doubt. Killed every son of a bitch that crossed his path, probably. Lisa and Ben saved him from losing his mind and getting himself killed.  
Bobby called halfway through the beer. Dean would be pissed, had it been anyone but Bobby. The older hunter hadn’t called him in weeks, months even. He only really called to check in, see how Dean was doing, and occasionally mention something about a hunt as if trying to get Dean back into it.  
“Hey, Bobby,” Dean mumbled, running a hand through his hair slowly.  
“How’re ya, son?” Bobby drawled, but didn’t wait for an answer, “Listen, I’ve been scannin’ the news, national, local, all of it. S’been quiet recently. ‘nyway, Came across an appeal in Detroit.”  
“An appeal? For what?” Dean was interested in any news in Detroit, where Lucifer took his brother, but he wondered what some appeal had to do with anything.  
“Anyone who knows a young man found in the streets,” Bobby continued, “Article says he got long dark hair, blue-green eyes, mid-to-late twenties, very tall, approx six feet four inches, with a muscular build.”  
Dean tensed, “You don’t think…”  
“It’s gotta be Sam, Dean. The description fits, s’where he took the jump. What more do ya need?”  
“It can’t be. Bobby, how can he just be back? What, you think Lucifer got bored with him, decided to let him go? Because that ain’t likely. He’s still stuck down there,” the ex-hunter was more worried about if that were Sam, how he’d be after over a year in the cage. He couldn’t just walk away from that.  
“I know, I know, Dean. But ya should go check it out. If it is yer brother, he’s gonna want to see you fer sure,” Bobby sighed, “He’s gonna need yer to take care of him, most likely.”  
Dean nodded, it seemed too much like Sam to be a coincidence. He left the rest of his beer undrunk as he quickly left the bar.  
“Meet me there, Bobby,” he said hurriedly before ending the call and driving back to Lisa’s. He wasn’t taking his truck. He needed his Impala.  
“Hey,” Lisa appeared in the garage doorway the moment Dean got out the truck, “I’m sorry about earlier, I- what are you doing?”  
Dean had thrown off the tarp covering his beloved car. He’d missed her so much, the roar of her engine, the rattle of the Legos, nothing could be better than his baby.  
“Sam might be back,” was all he said as he got inside the car and started up the engine. Dean couldn’t help but smile at the sound.  
“Sam? Your brother Sam? Dean, don’t be ridiculous,” Lisa shook her head, her smile immediately disappearing, “He’s dead. How can he be back?”  
“I thought that way too. But here we are,” Dean shrugged, “I have to go.”  
“This is it, isn’t it?” Lisa’s expression turned sour, “Sam’s back, you’re gone. We’re out of the picture, aren’t we? Don’t you think we need you here? I need you, Ben needs a role model like you?”  
“If my brother really is back, he’s gonna need me a hell of a lot more, Lisa. I’m sorry. He comes first right now,” Dean sighed, “Don’t look at me like that, Lise. I’ll call, alright?”  
Lisa nodded a little sadly, “I hope he’s alright,” she whispered softly before turning and going inside.  
Dean sped to Detroit as fast as he could and arrived in less than four hours. The moment he mentioned the John Doe at the hospital, he was escorted to the ward. He spun some story about his brother going missing the night before, but was careful on the details; he didn’t exactly know what condition his little brother was in, what he’d seen or been through.  
Dean was taken to the patient’s room, and he and the doctor stopped outside his room and watched him through the window.  
He was restrained and bound to the bed. His eyes were wide, fearful, as they stared at something that wasn’t there in the corner of the room. His expression alone looked so unlike his brother, terrified, almost childlike. Yet it was him. Sam had done the impossible, he’d escaped Hell.  
“Sammy,” tears sprung in Dean’s eyes as he stared at his brother. It wasn’t just his terror that was unsettling the older Winchester. All up his arms, all his visible skin including his face was covered in scars, cuts and gashes. The fresher ones were covered in bandages, and there was a patch on his neck.  
“He was found on the street, he was just curled up in a ball, completely catatonic,” the doctor, Dr Forester, sighed, “But when people approached him to see if he was alright, he’d freak out. He’d flinch, sometimes he’d scream or lash out. He started rocking back and forth, just saying “stop” or asking for someone named Dean.”  
“That’s me, that’s me. I’m Dean, I’m his brother,” Dean stuttered, wiping at this eyes, “God. I shoulda been there to protect him. He must have been so afraid.”  
“He’s had violent episodes. Very violent,” Dr Forester’s expression was solemn as she looked towards Sam, “The cops had to sedate him. One of them is in the hospital.”  
“They are?” the ex-hunter frowned, “What did he do? Can I go talk to him?”  
“He’s comatose, so good luck with that,” the doctor shrugged, “The cops tried to move him and he got violent. Really violent. The cops couldn’t restrain him, they had no choice but to sedate him. He was close to killing that cop, the one that’s in the hospital. Had his hands around his neck. Witnesses said the other was thrown against a wall, but he didn’t touch him. They brought him here, this hospital is equipped for violent patients like him. We patched up his wounds while he was still heavily sedated.”  
“How bad are they?” Dean looked at Dr Forester, teary-eyed, “What happened to him?”  
“They were deep cuts and gashes. On his neck, his arms, legs, chest. Everywhere. And he’s covered in scars,” she shook her head, “I think I should be asking the same question to you.”  
“I don’t know. He was missing. He was…” Dean couldn’t even think straight, couldn’t think up a viable answer, “I need to talk to him.”  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dr Forester appeared alarmed, “He almost attacked a nurse, she didn’t even touch him. That’s why he’s been restrained.”  
“You said he’s been asking for me. Maybe I’ll calm him down,” Dean argued, “How do you know that’s not the reason he’s been so scared? Because he wandered off and couldn’t find me?”  
“That’s possible, but…”  
“Look, I’ll call if he gets worked up. I won’t touch him, I just want to talk,” the protective brother’s voice was becoming more and more desperate, “Please.”  
He could hear Sam mumbling, his feeble whimpers of fear. He was struggling against the restraints, pulling at them desperately and breaking down into cries, just as he had as a child. Dr Forester watched him for a while, deep in thought, before looking back at Dean.  
“Alright. But call if he doesn’t calm down. We’ll have to sedate him again,” she ran a hand through her short brown hair before opening the door for Dean. The doctor hated seeing such young people go through something like this. The patient had been terrified ever since he was brought in, it was hard to believe he’d almost killed a man. He looked so vulnerable, his body curled in on itself and his eyes looking more like a young child’s than a man’s. He hadn’t even eaten yet, no one could get near enough to give him food, let alone feed him. He appeared to have regressed, unable to speak or do anything for himself. They’d already had to change the bedsheets a couple times thanks to his lack of informing staff he needed the bathroom.  
Dean entered the room slowly and noticed Dr Forester go to tend to another patient. Sam had calmed a little, no longer crying or struggling but still fearful. He muttered “stop” repeatedly under his breath as his wide eyes stared straight ahead of him.  
“Sammy?” the older Winchester spoke softly, careful to move slowly so as not to startle his little brother, “Sammy, it’s me.”  
Sam didn’t respond, he just stared straight ahead at nothing, whimpering softly.  
“Stop,” he whispered, “Stop, stop.”  
“Stop what? What’s wrong, Sam?” Dean kept his voice quiet and calm. The younger Winchester was clearly hallucinating, “What are you seeing?”  
“Stop,” Sam was visibly shaking as he began to tug against his restraints, “Want Dean, want Dean. Dean.”  
“I’m right here, Sammy. I’m right here,” he reached to touch Sam’s hand but pulled back at the last second. The last thing he needed was Sam getting violent on him.  
Dean couldn’t stop the tears when Sam began to cry. His cries were helpless, defeated. The fear was undeniable. Sam was so much thinner, but still held some muscle. His cheekbones were more prominent, his eyes sunken and his collarbone sticking out. The scars criss-crossed down his arms, his neck. He even had what looked like claw-marks, raked down his cheek. Dean so desperately wished he could get his hands on Lucifer, make him pay for all the pain he put Sam through and the lasting damage he’s caused. If only that wouldn’t result in his imminent death.  
“Dean,” Sam’s voice was still quiet, nervous. He slowly turned to look at his brother, taking slow, shaking breaths. He wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes, looking away the moment they had eye contact. But he stared at Dean’s face, watched him a moment.  
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean smiled, “I’ve been so worried about you.”  
Sam just kept staring at him, his blue-green eyes sparkling with tears.  
“Stop,” he whispered, “Stop. Stop. Want Dean. Want Dean.”  
Dean frowned, “What? Sammy, it’s me, its Dean, your big brother. I’m right here, buddy.”  
“Stop,” the corners of Sam’s mouth began to twitch, a tear spilling over and trickling down his cheek, “Stop.”  
He repeated the word over and over, his voice slowly getting more and more desperate. He sobbed through the words, getting upset and confused, but wouldn’t drag his eyes away from Dean. He didn’t see his brother, not really. He saw his brother’s face, for sure, but his eyes were black. He saw another face, an uglier, twisted face, under his brother’s. Sam was sure that wasn’t his big brother.  
“Sammy, relax,” Dean began, putting his hand on Sam’s shoulder without thinking. The younger Winchester screamed in terror, and at the same time the lights in the room blew.  
“I’m sorry. Sammy, I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t mean to-” the older man spoke too fast, stumbled over his words. He couldn’t bear to see his brother in such a way, he only wished he could calm him down. Pull him into a hug like he always had since they were kids. Sam always seemed to feel safe in his brother’s arms, sometimes Sam told him so. Even as an adult, when his little brother broke down, a hug from Dean was all he needed to calm himself and feel better. This was probably the only time that this wouldn’t work, and it hurt for him to know that.  
“Stop! Stop!” Sam desperately struggled against his restraints, tugging at them and seemingly oblivious to the restraints cutting into his skin and close to drawing blood. The words turned into screams, terrified screams as if he were in pain. As if he were burning alive. He writhed, cried desperately as he struggled against the restraints to curl up into a ball. Dean had to look away, the pain his brother appeared to be in was unbearable to watch.  
His little brother suddenly silenced, he’d passed out suddenly. Dean got up to call for help, finally gaining the strength to get up and move, but Sam started convulsing and gasping, the restraints finally drawing blood. The lights outside the room began to flicker as Sam’s doctor and a couple nurses ran into the room. They released the younger Winchester from his restraints to prevent further injury, and waited until the seizure ended and Sam came around before injecting him with heavy sedatives.  
Sam laid on his back, his wounds from the restraints bandaged, staring up at the ceiling with confused eyes. He hadn’t spoken since the sedatives were administered. He’d occasionally look around the room fearfully, let out a small whimper, but otherwise he appeared relaxed. Dean was invisible for all Sam knew. But he hadn’t left his side.  
“I’m right here, Sammy,” he said softly, wishing he could at least run a hand through Sam’s hair, pat him on the shoulder, anything, “I won’t let anything hurt you. You’re safe now.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean stepped outside his brother’s room to make a call. Sam had since been sedated and had fallen asleep, although he was still whimpering and shifting in his sleep as much as the restraints could allow. His expression was reasonably calm, occasionally turning pinched and afraid as he dreamed. The older Winchester couldn’t do this alone. He needed help.  
“Dean? Is it him?” Bobby’s gruff voice sounded a little eager.  
“It’s Sam, Bobby. But he’s not,” Dean couldn’t find the words, “He’s not Sammy. He’s just not.”  
“What d’ya mean? He possessed?” Bobby frowned.  
“He’s like a little kid, Bobby. Can’t seem to do anythin’ for himself, he can’t even talk!” the eldest Winchester shook his head, “He’s terrified, he doesn’t seem to understand where he is. The way he looked at me, Bobby, it was like he was looking at Lucifer or something.”  
Bobby sighed, “Hell would do that to ya. God knows what the kid went through down there.”  
“He started freaking out, real bad. Like he was being tortured,” Dean dragged a hand down his face, “Ended up having a fit. The lights blew.”  
“Doesn’t sound right,” the older hunter’s brow furrowed, “I’ll be there as soon as I can, son. You watch out for him.”  
“Of course,” Dean rolled his eyes slightly, “I’ll see if Cas can help.”  
Castiel appeared behind the hunter the moment he started to pray. Dean startled, close to punching the angel in the face with the shock.  
“Fucks sake, Cas,” he shook his head, running a hand through his hair.  
“Sorry,” Castiel muttered, looking through the window into Sam’s room. The youngest Winchester was still sleeping, restlessly tossing and turning while letting out panicked whimpers. The angel’s ice blue eyes softened sadly at the sight of him.  
“Can you help him?” Dean asked urgently, “Heal him, get rid of whatever’s screwin’ him up?”  
“No, Dean,” Castiel sighed, “It’s not like a wound, it can’t be healed that way.”  
“Then what the hell do we do with him, Cas? Leave him like this, locked and bound to his bed so he can’t hurt himself or anyone? Let him be tormented by whatever’s going on in his head?” Dean was close to yelling, “What the fuck do we do?”  
“We can only see how he recovers. If he recovers,” Castiel looked solemn and watched Sam as he let out a cry and woke with a start, panting and staring ahead of him in terror. Dean watched with him, tears filling his eyes as his little brother looked like a child cowering from whatever was surrounding him in his mind, “I’m sorry, Dean.”  
“How’d he get out?” The protective big brother looked away as Sam began to cry, bottom lip trembling as tears spilled over, “An angel? You?”  
“I didn’t raise him from perdition, Dean. No one did,” Castiel shook his head, “The only explanation, and this is unlikely, is that Sam climbed out.”  
“Climbed? You’re saying my kid brother climbed all the way from downstairs?” Dean gave the angel a pointed look, “Of course, that doesn’t sound impossible.”  
“It’s possible, just not easy,” Castiel looked back at Dean, “Somehow, Sam must have escaped the cage, which is a feat in itself. Then climbed as long as he could, kept going until he found his way out.”  
“Is that even possible?” Dean looked from Sam to Cas.  
“Your father did it, don’t you remember? Although there was a Hell Gate open then,” Castiel watched Sam for a moment, “If anyone is determined enough to do it, its Sam.”  
“My god, Sammy. You really wanted out,” the older Winchester rubbed at his eyes. Sam had since stopped crying, staring ahead of him with a vacant but confused expression.   
“May I?” the angel gestured toward the door, “I want to see the damage for myself.”  
“Uh, sure. Just be careful, don’t touch him or he’ll freak,” Dean was desperately trying to keep himself composed but things weren’t looking good for Sam. What kind of life was being stuck in this room until he finally croaked? It wasn’t fair, Sammy deserved so much better.  
The youngest Winchester startled as the door open, his attention rapidly turning to the door with wide eyes.   
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said softly, in the hopes that Sam wouldn’t be scared by his mere presence again.   
“Stop, stop,” Sam mumbled cowering away with tears on his eyes, “Dean. Stop. Dean.”  
Castiel frowned as he looked at the brothers, stepping in front of Dean. Sam appeared to visibly relax, his eyes going from panic to relief, his tense muscles relaxing. Dean was sure he could see a hint of a smile on his little brother’s lips.  
“Hello, Sam,” the angel approached the bed slowly and spoke in a soft voice, “It’s good to see you again.”  
Sam stared at Castiel, the calmest Dean had seen him since he got here, and stayed completely silent. Castiel frowned, leaning closer to him as if studying him. The patient shifted as best he could, frightened by the proximity.  
“Stop,” he whimpered, closing his eyes tight and turning his head away, “Stop, stop.”  
“I’m not going to hurt you, Sam. It’s me, Castiel,” the angel spoke softly but moved away regardless, he could sense how distressed Sam was becoming. He looked back at Dean, “I can sense angel grace.”  
“So what, Sam’s an angel?” Dean snapped, causing Sam to flinch, “What the hell does that mean?”  
“Apologies for this, Sam,” Castiel placed a hand on Sam’s forehead, who cried out and tried to move his head away.   
“Stop!” he begged, “Dean! Dean!”  
“I’m right here, Sammy. S’alright. Cas won’t hurt you,” Dean stood a little closer but didn’t want to scare his brother further, “You’re alright, buddy.”  
Castiel moved his hand away and straightened up, “Sam has grace within him. Lucifer’s grace.”  
“Is he…is Lucifer still in there?” the hunter looked at Sam with narrow eyes. Had the archangel been in Sam the whole time, not speaking, just tormenting him from the inside?  
“No. He must have left Sam’s body once they got into the cage and left some behind. All angels leave a trace. But he left enough to be noticeable, enough for Sam to gain power from it,” Castiel spoke solemnly.  
“Is that how he blew the lights? Threw that cop?” Dean asked, relieved to see Sam beginning to calm down again. The last thing they needed was another seizure.  
“I think so,” Castiel nodded once.  
“Can you get it out, Cas?” Dean paced the room nervously, “Sam’s already hurt people with it, he could hurt more, hell, he could kill people!”  
“I can’t remove it, not myself. But you are right. Raphael won’t be happy to find out Sam is out, he’ll hunt him down and the grace only makes him easily trackable. He’s not safe with it, Dean,” Castiel gave Sam a concerned look, “We’ll find a way.”  
Sam began to smile, a vacant, oblivious smile, at the angel, struggling against his restraint as he tried to reach for Castiel’s hand. Dean watched in disbelief at his little brother’s sudden change. He’d been spooked by Castiel touching him just a minute before, but now he was reaching for him? Sam was so relaxed for Cas, why was he so afraid of his own brother? Dean had to stop himself from leaving the room in frustration. He knew it wasn’t Sam’s fault, and he couldn’t be hard on him.  
“It’s alright, Sam,” Castiel gently released the youngest Winchester’s hand from the restraint, “You’re safe. Lucifer can’t hurt you anymore. I’ll watch over you.”  
Sam reached his hand and pawed at the angel’s, as if unable to grasp it for himself. Castiel smiled softly and took his hand, watching as Sam stayed completely calm and relaxed. The younger Winchester stayed silent, just staring at Castiel. His eyes were focused, as if he were trying to talk, but instead he let out a small whimper.  
“Sam? What are you trying to say?” Dean took a step closer to his brother.   
“He can’t talk, Dean, not properly,” Castiel said quietly, “It’s like he doesn’t know how.”  
“What, he forgot how to talk?” Dean looked at Cas in confusion, “All he’s said is my name, and stop.”  
“Whatever happened to him in hell, his mind has regressed somewhat,” the angel kept his eyes on Sam, “He may improve with time, I am not certain.”  
Sam let out another whimper, looking toward Dean with a fearful expression before looking back at Castiel, “Dean. Want Dean.”  
“I’m here, Sammy,” the oldest Winchester sat beside Sam’s bed, but he cowered away with wide, fearful eyes.  
“He’s really Dean, Sam,” Castiel spoke quietly as Sam gripped onto his hand tightly, “I do not know what you’re seeing, but that’s your brother.”  
The younger brother stared at Dean, wide eyed and nervous-looking, but said nothing. He stayed silent, eventually turning back to look at Cas with a docile smile.  
A knock at the door startled both brothers, Sam letting out a soft cry and turning his head away. A nurse, brunette with gentle green eyes, entered the room with a tray.  
“Hello, Sam,” she said in a singsong voice, “Are you going to eat for us today?”  
Her attention immediately moved to Sam’s hand in Cas’.   
“Who said you could take his restraint off?” the nurse’s voice turned accusing, until she realised, “He’s…calm.”  
“Seems to trust Cas here,” Dean muttered a little bitterly, “Just everyone else that freaks him out.”  
“Yes, well. I’ll have to tell his doctor, it’s a good sign,” the nurse placed the tray on the bedside table, “Try and get him to eat. He hasn’t let any of us near him to try. He must be starving.”  
“He hasn’t eaten the entire time?” Dean frowned.  
“That’s why we had him hooked up with an iv line,” she gestured to Sam’s still-restrained hand, “We needed to get him nutrients somehow.”  
“We’ll do our best,” Castiel nodded politely to the nurse.  
“Enjoy your meal, Sam,” the nurse smiled to her patient, who hadn’t met her eyes the entire time, before leaving the room.  
“Alright then, Sammy,” Dean inspected the tray, “Lets see what you’ve got today. Looks like soup and bread, sure smells good.”  
The soup smelled more like puke than appetising but Sam was seemingly oblivious anyway. He was staring in the opposite direction, eyes fixed on a particular point in the room.  
“Am I gonna have to do the airplane?” the older brother chuckled nervously, fearing he was trying to hard for nothing. He was desperate by this point, even to just have his little brother look at him without fear in his eyes.  
Sam finally turned to look at the soup when the spoon began looming towards his face. He turned his head away, letting out a small whimper and looking at Cas with a tearful expression.   
“c’mon, Sammy,” Dean sighed, “You gotta eat.”  
“Stop,” Sam mumbled, “Stop.”  
“Don’t pressure him, Dean,” Castiel was still holding Sam’s hand, “You cannot force him.”  
“You try then,” Dean snapped, startling Sam, “Sorry, Sammy.”  
Castiel took the bowl and spoon, “Now, Sam. You need to eat,” he took a spoonful of soup as Sam watched intently.   
“Stop,” he whispered, eyeing the spoon as if it would attack him.   
“Just one spoonful,” Castiel, to Dean’s disbelief, was trying to reason with him, “One spoonful.”  
After hesitation, Sam allowed Castiel to feed him a couple spoonfuls of soup and drank a little water before turning his head away and rejecting the rest.  
“Well, it’s a start,” Dean sighed, “Good job, Sammy.”  
Sam didn’t respond, he was staring ahead of him, wide eyed and mumbling “stop” repeatedly.   
“Sam?” Castiel followed Sam’s eyes, “Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real.”  
“Mr Winchester?” the nurse returned, “We have a Mr Singer here to see Sam.”  
“Let him in,” Dean looked at her briefly, “We managed to get him to eat, by the way.”  
“That’s great,” the nurse smiled and went to take the tray, leaving the cup of water on the table, “It’s a good start. I’ll bring Mr Singer in, but visiting hours are almost over.”  
“Cas and Bobby will leave when time’s up,” Dean looked at Sam, who was fidgeting nervously and still mumbling to himself, “I’m not leaving my brother here on his own.”  
“I’m sorry, sir, hospital policy-”  
“Screw the policy! He’s my brother!” Dean was close to yelling, causing Sam to yelp and cower away, clutching at Cas’ hand and looking close to tears.   
“Yelling like that won’t help him at all,” the nurse shook her head, “Look, I’ll see what I can do. But you need to control your temper if you want to stay longer with your brother.”  
She left the room swiftly, returning not long after with Bobby in tow, “Sam, you have another visitor.”  
The youngest Winchester wasn’t listening, still transfixed by a hallucination in the corner. He’d tugged his hand away from Cas’, clenching his fists and beginning to get a little agitated.   
Bobby approached the bed, watching his surrogate son with concern, “Sam?”  
Sam’s eyes shot to Bobby and back to the corner of the room. His voice got louder, “Stop, stop, stop.”  
He was pleading, begging, tears streaming from his eyes, “Stop, stop.”  
“Sam, its okay,” Castiel murmured, “You know Bobby.”  
Sam’s eyes moved slowly from the corner, still begging, until they rested just behind Bobby. He jolted, suddenly becoming hysterical as he stared at Bobby’s chest. Cas took his hand again as he sobbed.   
“Nothing’s there, Sam. Its just Bobby,” the angel murmured, squeezing Sam’s hand and trying to distract him. The youngest Winchester looked to Castiel, sobs morphing into whimpers, as Bobby took a step closer towards Dean. Once Sam looked back at Bobby, he appeared confused, staring at the older hunter with a frown.   
“You should get some rest, Sam,” Castiel reached and touched the patient’s head, sending him into what he and Dean hoped would be a peaceful sleep.   
“Looked happy to see me,” Bobby grunted.  
“Join the club,” Dean muttered, “Only one he doesn’t freak out over is Cas.”  
“It’s not his fault, Dean. Everyone knows you’re Dean’s weakness, of course Lucifer used your face as part of Sam’s torture in the cage,” Castiel glanced at Sam briefly, placing his hand on the bed, “He can’t be sure you are really you.”  
“And what about Bobby? He was crying, he wasn’t afraid of him,” the older Winchester got to his feet.   
Castiel placed a hand on Sam’s forehead, thankfully with no reaction from him, “He saw, or more like he thought he saw…” the angel frowned, “Lucifer stabbing Bobby in the back.”  
“That’d do it,” Bobby shook his head, “Kid’s been through hell, literally.”  
“Enough to keep him locked in here,” Dean ran a hand through his hair, “I need some air.”  
“I’ll stay here, watch over Sam,” Castiel didn’t move his gaze from Sam, who so far was sleeping peacefully. Without another word, the two hunters walked out the room, leaving the youngest man in the hands of the angel.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam had been in the hospital for a month and Dean had visited him almost every day. Occasionally, the younger Winchester’s condition deteriorated so badly that he was on complete lockdown, and he wasn’t allowed any visitors at all. This left Dean sitting in his motel room, unable to focus on anything other than his brother. Sam only got violent when he was afraid, he never got angry. If he was having a bad day, the older Winchester couldn’t bear to think what was going on in Sam’s head.   
Lisa had called a couple times, asked Dean to come home, but he’d politely refused on the grounds that Sam still needed him. He could tell she was getting more frustrated with him, what had been so bad that had left Sam seemingly so reliant on him? But she didn’t pry, she didn’t have the energy.   
Dean entered the hospital on Sam’s 28th birthday with a small cake he picked up at the local store. The ex-hunter’s appetite hadn’t improved much, but he was at least accepting a few mouthfuls from Cas or any hospital staff he was familiar with. He hoped that Sam would cooperate with a little birthday cake. While clearing up his guest room, Bobby had found an old teddy bear that Sam must have left there years ago. He’d given it to Dean to give to Sam; perhaps he’d remember it and it’d help him feel safer. It was worth a shot, anything that might help keep the younger Winchester calm would be useful.   
Castiel was unable to make it to the hospital that day, for the first time in a while. Dean could only hope Sam wouldn’t be too unsettled without him there.   
Dean found Sam lying on his side in bed, completely transfixed by the TV placed in his room. Of all things, the younger Winchester was watching The Little Mermaid and enjoying it immensely. Sam was smiling vaguely, letting out the occasional giggle as he watched the cartoon, completely tranquil.  
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean spoke softly, sighing as Sam flinched but kept watching the movie, “Happy birthday.”  
The patient didn’t move, giggling childishly as Under the Sea began to play.   
“Ah, you loved this movie as a kid,” the hunter smiled to himself, “Wouldn’t stop singing the songs. I was so close to swiping you one of those Flounder plushies from that Disney store we visited once. You were a real Disney nut.”  
Sam’s nurse, Lucy, entered the room and smiled at the sight of Dean, “Hey, Dean. It’s time for Sam’s meds.”  
“Seems like he’s enjoying the movie,” Dean nodded towards the TV, “Good sign?”  
“We had a good few days, right Sam?” Lucy placed the tray on Sam’s bedside table, “Only a few episodes, he had a minor panic attack yesterday after you and your friend left. He just kept asking for Cas.”  
Sam hadn’t asked for Cas before. Since he’d arrived at the hospital, all he’d managed to say was “Dean” and “stop”. It wasn’t unclear that Sam had been much closer to Cas than he had to Dean, so it wasn’t much of a surprise.  
“Cas? Cas?” Sam snapped out of his trance and looked around, eyes hopeful.   
“Cas isn’t here today, sweetie,” Lucy said softly, “He’ll come visit you soon, I’m sure.  
With a disappointed expression, the younger Winchester slowly laid back down, settling on his pillow to carry on watching the movie.   
Lucy smiled a little, “He was fine, mostly. So we let him go to the day room for a little while. Thought he might like the change of scenery, and maybe he’d find something that he enjoys. He was under close supervision, considering how he’s changed so quickly before. He did some drawing,” she gestured to some paper on the side, “We had a Disney movie playing, the moment he noticed it he just stood staring at it. He started smiling and giggling, it took a while for him to be led away from the TV.”  
Sam barked a laugh at the cartoon before settling again, a dreamy smile on his face.  
“He had a bad night last night, he kept waking up crying. So we thought we’d try and calm him down with another movie,” Lucy looked at Sam with a fond smile.   
“Well, looks like it’s a winner,” Dean chuckled, “Never seen him so quiet.”  
The nurse nodded and picked up the small cup of tablets, “Time for your meds, Sam.”  
Sam didn’t respond, too engrossed in the TV. With a sigh, Lucy switched off the movie for a moment, hoping the patient wouldn’t get upset. Instead he went silent, expression blank and eyes staring at nothing. His bed was raised so he was sitting, and Sam shifted uncomfortably, grumbling something inaudible.   
“Here you go,” Lucy carefully helped him take his pills without touching him, before holding a glass of water to his lips to help him swallow them. It was like watching a toddler being given a drink of water, but he’d definitely improved. Weeks earlier Sam wouldn’t let the nurses near enough to give him the meds, but now he’d become familiar with the routine he was much more settled. His routine was pretty rigid, however, and any change would agitate him. Just a week ago one of his regular nurses had called in sick, leaving Sam more nervous and jumpy than usual when a different nurse came to tend to him on that day.   
After taking his meds, Sam settled back down and looked at the TV expectantly, as if able to telepathically play the movie again.   
“Sam, your brother’s here," Lucy said quietly, “Maybe we should take a break from the movie and say hey to him.”  
The young man turned to look at his big brother with a hopeful expression, but the moment he laid eyes on Dean he flinched and let out a small whimper. His lips turned down at the corners slightly as he stared.   
“Stop, stop,” Sam whimpered, “Cas, Cas, want Cas.”  
“He’s asked for Cas so much more now,” Lucy said softly.  
“He couldn’t make it today. Work commitments,” Dean muttered, “Sammy, it’s alright. It’s me, I promise. I don’t know what you’re seeing, what’s going on in there, but its me. I’d never hurt you, Sammy, I promise.”  
Sam whimpered quietly and looked close to tears, turning to lie on his stomach and burying his head in the pillow. Dean could hear him crying, his voice muffled as he said Cas’ name repeatedly. Lucy sighed sympathetically, looking at her patient sadly. She’d grown fond of him, even though he’d never spoken to her or ever really acknowledged her. She could see he was such a kind soul and hated that he’d gone through something so horrific that he was left so afraid and unhappy. The nurse wished there was something she could do, she just wanted to get through to him, figure out what was wrong and help him fix it. She hated seeing him so upset.  
Without thinking, Lucy reached out to soothingly stroke Sam’s hair. It was a natural response, she only wanted to help sooth him and calm him. Sam let out a cry, and Lucy found herself thrown across the room, hitting the wall with such force that the wind was knocked out of her before falling to the floor. The patient was curled in a ball, quivering and rocking back and forth while mumbling “Cas” over and over again.  
“Are you alright?” Dean helped the young woman up instantly, “Are you hurt?”  
“No, no, I’m fine. Just a little shaken,” Lucy gasped and tried to take a few deep breaths to calm down, “I’m sorry, I…”  
“Hey, it’s alright. It wasn’t your fault. You weren’t trying to hurt him,” the hunter reassured her, “Has he done this before?”  
Lucy looked a little fearful as she looked at Dean, still shaking, “He’s thrown someone before, another nurse was burned when she touched his hand and he panicked, the same happened to a doctor.”  
She glanced over at Sam, completely catatonic and curled up, “When Sam has a seizure the entire building’s electrics are interrupted. It’s got to the point we go to his room whenever the lights flicker, we don’t know how he does it.”   
Dean ran a hand through his hair, “We’ll figure it out, I’m sure,” he stood up, “I need to make a call.”  
“I need to finish my rounds,” Lucy nodded, “And I have to report the incident. He’ll have to be sedated again.”  
Dean left the room to call Bobby, leaving his brother to hopefully calm down. He told the older hunter with concern that Sam seemed to be using the leftover grace from Lucifer when he was afraid or lashing out.   
“He’s not controlling it, I don’t think he’s even aware of it,” Dean sighed and shook his head, “He threw a nurse without even touching her. Hell, his seizures are even fucking with the electrics.”  
“I’ve never heard anything like it,” Bobby scratched his beard, “I’ll see what I can find, son, maybe there’s a way to get it out of him. Cas might know.”  
“Cas isn’t here. Sam probably wouldn’t have even freaked had Cas been here. He’s the only one who can get through to him,” the hunter tried and failed to hide his bitter jealousy. But why should Sam trust an angel more than his own brother?  
After a long phone call with Bobby about Sam’s progress – he was pleased to hear that Sam had been well enough to go to the day room – Dean decided to check in on Sam and see how he was doing. Hopefully he’d calmed down considerably and was maybe even back to watching his Disney movies.   
Dean found his little brother lying back on his bed, which was still tilted so he was sitting, staring at the wall and mumbling to himself. His doctor had told the older Winchester that he’d been given some mild sedatives but had calmed down mostly on his own, although still a little skittish.  
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean spoke softly, unsurprised at Sam’s flinch as he began to talk, “I got something for you.”  
He took the small cake out of his bag, already sliced so as not to bring knives into Sam’s room, “Can’t remember the last time you had a birthday cake. Or if you ever had one. Well, twenty-eight is better than never, right?”  
Sam stared at the cake blankly, but Dean continued to talk, “Twenty-eight. Now that makes me feel old,” he chuckled, “When did ya get so old, Sammy? Why’d ya grow up so fast? It’s like just last week you were, what, fourteen and playing soccer at school, working the lights and stuff at that school play. Man, you sure grew up. Went to college, became the best hunter in the world.”  
Sam had stopped staring at the cake, instead he was looking at Dean. His wide, terrified eyes hurt to look at. He used to have such a spark in his eyes, curiosity and knowledge, compassion. But now all that had been replaced. Fear and dread and torment. Would he ever hunt again? Would he even get out of this hospital? The future seemed so bleak for Sam, but at least he was out of hell. He was safe now, Dean could protect him again, like he’d always promised John.  
“Dean,” Sam’s voice was almost silent as he stared at his brother.   
“Sammy?” Dean frowned, watching the younger Winchester carefully, “It’s me, I’m here, buddy.”  
“Dean,” Sam repeated, his attention focusing on the cake.  
“Ah I see how it is. You want cake, don’t ya?” Dean smirked, “Well, it’s just for you, maybe any of the nurses you got your eye on. Any of them give you their number yet?”   
Normally Sam would have smiled, shaken his head at his brother’s poor humour. Instead he just stared blankly, looking from Dean to the cake. The hunter got some cake on a spoon and held it up toward’s Sam’s mouth. He was hopeful that Sam would accept it, he’d always cowered away when Dean had attempted to feed him. One time it resulted in a panic attack that took Castiel at least fifteen minutes to calm him down again before he could feed him. But Sam was different, he’d looked at his brother as if he truly recognised him, not like he’d seen black eyes as he normally did. Slowly, the younger Winchester leaned closer to the spoon and ate the spoonful of cake, much to Dean’s surprise.   
“That good?” Dean asked quietly, and Sam reached toward the cake, “Wow, someone’s eager.”  
The patient accepted spoonful after spoonful of cake, reaching for the cake after every mouthful he took. It was the most he’d eaten for a meal, even though he only ate half a slice. He turned his head away, mumbling “stop” a few times.   
“Good job, buddy,” Dean smiled, “You’ll have your appetite back in no time.”  
He carefully reached to place his hand on his brother’s in the hopes he’d be comfortable around him enough to cope with it. Before he made contact, however, Sam moved his hand away, giving his brother his famous puppy eyes as he did so.  
“Stop,” Sam muttered, “Stop, stop.”  
“Alright. Sorry, Sammy,” Dean smiled sympathetically, “You did good. I got something else for ya too.”  
He took out the old teddy bear from his duffle bag, and in an instant Sam’s eyes lit up.  
“You remember him?” the older Winchester looked at his little brother with a smile, “Bobby found him in the guest room. You musta left him there one time. Man, you screamed the place down when you lost him.”  
Sam wasn’t listening, just reaching for the toy with his arms outstretched like a toddler. The teddy was placed in his hand and in an instant he began to smile, the biggest smile Dean had seen on him in a very long time. He clutched at the bear tightly, his knuckles almost white, but his visible strength was masked by the childlike expression on his face. His dimples, his vacant smile, his delight at the stuffed animal looked out of place on such a large, muscular man.   
The patient suddenly began to cry, burying his nose in the stuffed animal’s fur and hugging it close. The toy looked so small in his arms, it was barely bigger than his hand.  
“Hey, hey, Sammy its alright,” Dean had to stop himself from patting him on the back, “You always told me that bear protected you from monsters. Maybe he can still do that for you, huh?”  
Sam rubbed his eyes clumsily with his hands before settling down on his bed, lying on his side facing the TV as he had been earlier.   
“Dean,” Sam mumbled, pointing toward the TV, “Dean.”  
“You want the movie back on?” Dean sighed, “Well, you earned it. Eating all that cake and being so brave, huh? Let’s see what happens to Ariel, then.”  
He put the movie back on for Sam, who smiled and started giggling again. The older Winchester sat beside Sam’s bed, watching the movie reluctantly. He could only hope Sam would open up to him soon.  
“Happy birthday, Sammy.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a trigger warning for some reference and description of self harm, hopefully not too graphic. Proceed with caution if this affects you.

Dean followed his brother as he seemingly took him on a tour of the day room. Sam was definitely improving, he was picking up a word here and there and was warming to Dean. He still wasn’t completely himself, but Dean was unsure he ever would get the real Sam back.   
“Look,” Sam muttered, pointing at the pile of paper and some crayons. He looked up at Dean, expectant of a reaction as he squeezed his teddy bear in his hand.  
“They look fun, huh?” Dean smiled encouragingly, “You want to draw something?”  
Sam stared at his brother for a little while before moving onto something else. The room was deserted besides the brothers, a nurse and some security, just in case Sam got spooked. They’d tried to introduce Sam into going to the day room with other residents, but he got skittish and on the verge of a panic attack with the presence of strangers, a lot of whom stared at him. They decided it was best, for now at least, for him to only visit on his own.  
The younger Winchester picked up a stuffed animal left on one of the couches and handed it to Dean before wandering off toward the board games.  
“Uh, thanks,” Dean frowned, placing it back where Sam found it and following his brother again.   
“Dean,” Sam pointed at the boxes of board games on the shelf, looking at his brother then back at the games.  
“Wow, Sammy. We played a bunch of these as kids, remember?” Dean studied the different games, “Remember Buckaroo?”  
Sam didn’t respond, his communication wasn’t at its best. Dean didn’t even know if he understood what he was saying. He was going to see if Sam wanted to play it, but figured the sudden jerk of the plastic donkey might not go down well with him.  
“Hey, how ‘bout snakes and ladders?” Dean suggested hopefully, taking the box down and holding it out to his little brother. Sam stared at it a moment as if it would attack him, but eventually took it and sat down at a table with it. He sat his bear on the table as if he would play with him.  
“You loved this one,” the older Winchester smiled wistfully, “Though you were always happy when you landed on a snake. Even though that wasn’t the point of the game.”  
Sam was staring at him blankly as he spoke before pushing at box towards him. Dean sighed and set up the board.   
“What colour counter do you want, buddy?” he held out the four coloured plastic pieces, “You always liked blue. Maybe blue?”  
“B-blue,” Sam mumbled, “Blue.”  
Dean was unsure whether that was his brother’s decision, or whether he was simply imitating the word – he’d been doing that a lot – but he gave him the blue counter anyway, “You gonna roll the dice, Sammy?”  
Sam looked from the dice to Dean and back to the dice before slowly reaching to pick it up.   
“That’s it,” Dean nodded encouragingly. Sam stared at it for a while before opening his palm and dropping it, flinching as it hit the table. He curled in on himself a little, wrapping his arms around himself.  
“Hey, hey, it’s alright, buddy,” Dean smiled at him, “Won’t hurt you. Looks like you rolled a five.”  
He moved the counter for his brother after a few minutes of him just staring at it. They carried on playing, despite Sam only rolling the dice when it was his turn. He did crack a small smile when he won the game, however, which Dean was glad to see.   
Once Sam’s allotted time in the day room was over, he was taken back to his room after picking out a Disney DVD from the shelf. This time he had Aladdin, and soon enough he was settled on his bed to watch the movie.  
Dean left after his little brother had fallen asleep for the night, curled up in a ball under his bed covers with his nose buried in the soft fur of his teddy bear. He was mumbling Cas’ name a few times, which wasn’t a surprise considering he’d been asking for him all day.   
The older Winchester was woken in the early hours of the morning to his phone ringing. He answered it immediately upon seeing it was the hospital. They’d called at night before, when Sam had experienced extreme episodes or had a seizure.   
“Is he alright?” he said instantly, his hand already shaking, “Is Sammy alright?”  
“Mr Winchester, your brother broke out of the ward. We have police out looking for him.”  
Dean’s heart lurched, “He’s missing?! What the hell happened, how did he get out?”  
“He was having a bad night, a lot of nightmares and he’d just calmed down from a panic attack. But he started screaming, we found him hiding in the corner of his room, completely terrified, he must have been hallucinating. He was begging for someone to stop.”  
“Oh, Sammy,” Dean shook his head, running his hand through his hair.  
“We tried to calm him down but he got violent. Hitting out at anyone who came near him. We attempted to move him to solitary, where he wouldn’t be able to harm himself or anyone, but no one could restrain him. He threw someone without touching them, they, they’re in the hospital with a concussion. He almost choked a guard to death. His strength it…it didn’t seem human at all. He was just so scared, he…he…” the woman on the phone trailed away nervously.  
“And he just ran for it?” Dean clenched his fists anxiously, needing all the information available.  
“He did…he just ran, found his way out and ran. We couldn’t stop him. I’m so sorry, we’re doing all we can to find him, he’s a risk to others and himself.”  
“I’ll go looking for him. He’ll be scared out of his wits,” the concerned Winchester disconnected the call and was about to pray for Castiel when his phone rang again.   
“Bobby, now’s really not-” Dean began as he picked up the call, but was quickly cut off.  
“Why the hell is Sam in Sioux Falls?!” Bobby said a little frantically.  
“He, he’s what?” Dean stared ahead of him in disbelief, “He broke out of the hospital just now!”  
“Well then, he musta teleported, ‘cause he’s right here. Soaked to the skin, its rainin’ pretty bad,” Bobby was sat in his car, not far from the younger Winchester curled in a ball against a wall, “Got a call from Sheriff Mills that Sam was here, just wanderin’ and looking real confused. She tried to approach him but he got skittish, backed against a wall. Told ‘er not to go near him, not to let anyone near him. I’m keepin’ an eye on him, Dean. Just get here as fast as you can, alright?”  
“Yeah, Bobby,” Dean wiped furiously at his eyes, “Thanks.”  
He put his phone away and began to pray for Cas, “Cas. You got your ears on? Sam needs our help, right now. I couldn’t give a crap if you’re busy right now, Sam needs us.”  
The angel appeared within a split second of Dean finishing his sentence, “What’s happened to Sam?” he demanded, eyes narrowed.  
“Get me to Sioux Falls, somehow Sam’s got himself over there,” Dean grabbed Cas’ arm, “Now, Cas!”  
Without another word, the hunter and the angel found themselves in the pouring rain in South Dakota, right beside Bobby’s car.   
“What took you so long?” Bobby frowned as he opened up the car, “You gotta get him back to my place, he’ll get hypothermia if he stays out here any longer.”  
Sam was rocking back and forth, gasping as he began to have a panic attack. His clothes had red patches all over them, Dean could only hope it wasn’t blood.  
“Cas! Cas! Cas!” he called desperately into the rain, he clearly hadn’t noticed the angel standing not too far away, “Cas!”  
Cas and Dean approached him slowly, so as not to spook him even further.  
“Sammy,” Dean had to speak loud to be heard over the rain, “Sammy, we’re here, buddy. It’s alright. You’re safe. We’ll take you to Bobby’s, alright?”  
Sam let out a louder gasp before passing out completely, falling back against the wall. He started seizing violently, and both Dean and Castiel ran ahead to him. His arms and neck were covered in scratches that bled and stained his clothes, causing Dean to shake his head and wipe at his eyes.  
“C-Cas,” Sam opened half an eye once he came around, his whole body shivering with the cold.  
“Hello, Sam,” Castiel murmured calmly, touching both brothers’ shoulders and taking them to the safety of Bobby’s house.  
“We gotta warm him up, Cas. He’s gonna get sick,” Dean’s voice was a little high pitched with panic. He turned his attention to his brother as he let out a small whimper, “Hey, hey, it’s okay, Sammy. You’re safe. You gave us one hell of a scare there, buddy.”  
Sam reached a shaking hand toward Cas and clutched at his tie, tears leaking from his eyes, “Cas, Cas.”  
“I’m here, Sam. You’ll be alright,” Castiel said as reassuringly as he could, helping Dean peel off Sam’s shirt that had stuck to his skin with the rain. The younger Winchester complained and tried to move away, clutching tighter at the tie.   
“I know, Sammy, I know you don’t like us touching you, but we gotta get these off. We’ll get you some nice, dry, stuff, right? Much more comfortable,” Dean sighed, Sam’s arms outstretched toward Cas weren’t helping at all, for one thing the angel could barely move, and then there was the issue of getting his shirt over his head.   
“I’ll get the shower going, Cas. Try and get those damn scrubs off him,” Dean shook his head and left his shivering brother with Cas, who resorted to taking off his tie for Sam to hold while he attempted to remove Sam’s shirt.  
“Now, Sam, I don’t think you want to stay cold, do you?” Cas was trying to reason with Sam, “I don’t think you’d enjoy getting sick.”  
“Cas,” Sam mumbled forlornly, “Cas.”  
Eventually the angel coaxed Sam into the bathroom in just his underwear, where the shower was ready for him. His lips were tinged a little blue from the cold as he stared at the water worriedly.   
“C’mon, Sammy. Panties off, get in there and warm up,” Dean said a little firmly. Sam looked at Cas with wide eyes, unsure what to do with himself.  
“Go on, Sam. It won’t hurt you,” Cas took Sam’s hand and lead him towards the shower, “Do you want me to assist you?”  
Dean snickered as Castiel was left to help Sam out of his underwear, causing the angel to shoot him a glare. Sam stood there, completely still, seemingly unfazed.  
“I’ll wait outside. Give Sam some privacy,” Castiel disappeared from sight, leaving Dean to help his brother warm up.  
“Cas? Cas?” Sam looked around, a little panicked, “Cas!”  
“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean didn’t mean to raise his voice, and regretted it as Sam flinched, “Cas will come back. But you need to warm up.”  
He gently pushed his brother toward the shower, and he finally got inside, just standing there as the water covered him. At least he’d feel warmer now, Dean thought to himself. He couldn’t bear to look at Sam’s thin frame. He’d lost so much muscle and a lot of weight thanks to his appetite or lack thereof. His height didn’t help, it only made him look skinnier. Hopefully his appetite would return so he could gain back some weight.  
“Dean…Dean…” Sam said quietly, the sound of the water almost drowning him out, “Out.”  
“You want out?” Dean looked at him, “You warmed up?”  
Sam didn’t answer, just giving his brother puppy eyes from the shower.   
“Alright, c’mon then,” Dean helped his brother out and wrapped him in a towel. Sam stood there helplessly, his hair flat against his head, and began to scratch at his already broken skin. A little blood began to pool out of the cut.  
“Hey, hey!” Dean slapped his hand away without thinking, causing Sam to cower away into a corner of the room and look at his scratches.  
“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Dean sighed, taking a small step closer to him, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Just, don’t hurt yourself, alright? Please, don’t hurt yourself anymore.”  
Once Sam was in his pyjamas – an old shirt and sweatpants left at Bobby’s – and in bed, Dean went downstairs to figure out what to do next. The younger Winchester had gone out like a light the moment he was put to bed, curled up in a tight ball and still shivering a little. Dean could only hope he didn’t get sick.  
“We can’t send him back to that hospital, Bobby,” he ran a hand through his hair, “Not if he’s gonna start zappin’ anywhere. He was lucky that he ended up here.”  
“And how are you gonna explain that to them? Sorry, my brother can’t come back because he teleported to South Dakota? They’re not just gonna let him go free like that,” Bobby shook his head.  
“They said he’s a risk to others and himself,” Dean sighed, “He wouldn’t hurt anyone. He just hits out when he’s scared.”  
“And that’s exactly why they’re not gonna want him out, Dean. If he’s a risk, they’ll want to keep him in, or at least get him to a closer hospital,” Bobby scratched his beard, “I’m sorry, son, he has to go back there.”  
With a minor miracle and a lot of celestial persuasion from Castiel, Sam was in fact discharged from the hospital. He was to instead attend regular check-ups at Sioux Falls General and would be provided with his meds from there. Dean could only thank the angel several times for the help. At least now Sam could be home, and taken care of by his family.  
Dean stayed by Sam’s bedside, terrified he’d disappear, literally, or have another episode. As he watched him, Dean ordered every Disney movie he could online. If his brother was to live at Bobby’s, they definitely needed something to calm him down.  
While Dean was taking some time out to collect his thoughts with a beer or two, Sam woke up in terror from a nightmare.  
“Cas! Cas, Cas!” he called out desperately, “Cas!”  
The concerned older brother ran upstairs just as the angel appeared at Sam’s bedside.   
“Sam, Sam,” Castiel slowly laid a hand on Sam’s leg as he quivered, “It was just a nightmare. Lucifer can’t hurt you anymore, you’re safe.”  
“Scared,” Sam let out a whimper and looked at Cas, his eyes sparkling with tears.  
“I know,” Castiel said softly, “I won’t let anything hurt you.”  
Clumsily, Sam threw himself at Castiel in a hug, wrapping his arms tight around him and burying his head in his shoulder similar to a toddler. The angel yelped slightly in surprise and had to steady himself before they both fell off the bed, before gently hugging him back. He began to frown.  
“Sam, I believe you have a fever,” he placed a hand on Sam’s forehead, which Sam shied away from instantly.  
“Stop,” the younger Winchester mumbled, attempting to hide under the bed sheets, “Stop.”  
“Is he sick?” Dean’s voice startled Sam, but he calmed down a little upon seeing him.  
“I think so,” the angel looked at him solemnly, “I’m sure he will be fine, Dean. He just needs rest.”  
“Dean,” Sam said quietly, staring at the bed covers.  
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean’s expression softened, “You alright?”   
Unsurprisingly, Sam didn’t respond, instead wrapping his arms around himself and shivering. His skin was pale and he didn’t look very well at all.   
“Get some rest,” Dean smiled at him, “You might feel better after some sleep.”  
“Ted,” his little brother looked around him a little frantically and automatically began scratching at his neck, “Ted.”  
“Crap,” the older Winchester cursed under his breath. Sam must have left his bear, named Ted according to him, behind at the hospital, “We’ll get Ted back for you, Sammy. Just go to sleep.”  
Without warning, Sam threw up violently on the bed, causing both Cas and Dean to step away immediately. He looked up at them both, puppy eyes in full force as he looked from one to the other and back again before curling in on himself, tears falling from his eyes.  
“Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright, buddy,” Dean reached to put his hand on Sam’s shoulder but he cowered from his hand, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”  
Castiel disappeared and reappeared with Sam’s teddy bear in his hand, which he instantly reached for. He hugged the bear to his chest childishly, burying his nose in the toy’s fur, before allowing Castiel to help him change into new pyjamas. Dean changed the bedsheets and went downstairs to ask Bobby to bring up a bucket for any future incidents.  
“How’s he doin’? He hungry?” the older hunter looked over at Sam, curled up in bed and clutching at Cas’ tie, holding his bear with the other hand.  
“He’s shaken, but I don’t think we should try and feed him yet. Still a bit skittish,” Dean sighed, “”I’m never gonna get my brother back, am I?”  
“He was locked up in Hell, Dean! Trapped with Michael and the devil themselves! We’re lucky he’s even showin’ improvement,” Bobby shrugged, sighing slowly, “But no matter what, he’s still your brother. He still looks up to you and loves you, even if his head plays tricks on ‘im sometimes. You’ve gotta be there for him, boy.”  
“Of course I’m there for him! We all are, I’ll do whatever it takes to make my little brother better, or at least make him feel safe,” Dean felt tears prick his eyes, “I just wish I could get Lucifer myself and-”  
“That’s not gonna help anything. Focus on your brother, not what hurt him,” Bobby looked at the older Winchester sternly, “Sam needs you here, not going off on some revenge mission.”  
“Yes, sir,” Dean muttered, turning to Sam and Cas. Sam was beginning to fall asleep, his hand still holding onto Cas.  
“I’ll let you get some rest,” Castiel stood up, “Good night, Sam.”  
“Cas, stop. Cas,” Sam fussed, reaching out his hand, “Cas!”  
“Think he wants you to stay,” Dean smirked.  
“Dean, I can’t stay here. I’m needed in heaven. And we can’t start raising suspicion about Sam,” Castiel looked at Sam sadly, “I’m sorry.”  
“Cas,” Sam’s eyes were wide and puppy-like, and he stared at the angel pleadingly. His lip began to tremble as if he’d cry any minute.  
“Just until he gets to sleep, c’mon,” Dean sighed, “He’s exhausted, he’ll be out in minutes.”  
“Fine,” Castiel sighed, taking his seat beside Sam once again and allowing him to hold his tie, “Get some rest, Sam.”  
Sam drifted off to sleep pretty quickly and didn’t wake until morning. He got a little distressed in his sleep, causing interference in the electrics of the house, but otherwise slept fine.   
“I will ward the building to ensure Sam can’t disappear anywhere,” Castiel slowly moved away from Sam once he’d fallen asleep, relieved that he didn’t wake, “And so no angels can detect him.”  
“I guess they won’t particularly like the idea of him running around with some of Lucifer’s grace?” Dean sighed, following Castiel out of the room.  
“They won’t. Most likely they’ll want to kill him, others might want to extract the grace for themselves. Either way, they’ll want to bring harm to your brother,” the angel sighed.  
“Can’t we get it out of him?” Dean frowned, “He doesn’t even understand he has it in him, he could hurt himself. Hell, he’s already hurting himself! He’s clawing at himself like he wants to take his own skin off!”  
“That could be an effect of the grace. If he can sense it, maybe he wants it out,” Castiel shook his head, “But it might just be his mental state. He’s hallucinating Lucifer all the time, hearing him say awful things.”  
“There has to be a way, Cas. He can’t carry on with that still inside him,” Dean shook his head, “What the hell do we do?”  
“I’ll look into it as best I can without raising suspicion,” Castiel said in a hushed tone as if the conversation was being watched, “Just keep him safe. I’ll be back whenever I can.”  
“Thanks, Cas,” the older Winchester sighed, “Really, thank you.”  
Castiel nodded before disappearing, leaving Dean to sit on his bed beside Sam’s, watching over him worriedly.


	5. Chapter 5

The knife fell from Sam’s grip, leaving blood dripping from its blade. The youngest Winchester stared fearfully at what used to be Bobby Singer laying before him, letting out a whimper and taking a small step back.  
“Oh god, Sammy,” Dean whispered, voice shaking. Sam’s bottom lip trembled, his arms wrapping around himself.  
“Bad…Bad…” Sam mumbled repeatedly, his whole body shaking in terror.  
“Sammy, c’mere,” the older Winchester held out his hand towards Sam’s blood-covered ones. His little brother shook his head, face crumpling as he began to cry.   
“Bad…me…Bobby…” Sam was desperately searching for words, getting more agitated by the second, “Bad!”  
His knees gave way and he fell to the floor, straight into the blood that had begun to pool. Dean hauled him up, ignoring Sam’s protests from being touched.  
“Murder…me…Bobby…bad…murder!” Sam sobbed, “Murder! Murder!”  
“No, no, Sammy, it wasn’t you. You were hallucinating, you thought Bobby was someone else and…oh god,” Dean was trying so hard to calm his brother down, he wouldn’t get anywhere otherwise.   
“Bobby…Bobby,” the youngest Winchester whimpered helplessly, “Bobby…gone.”  
“Yeah…I know,” Dean fought tears, “I know, buddy. Everything’s gonna be okay.”  
“No,” Sam cried, “No! Me…bad.”  
“You’re not bad, Sammy. You’re not bad,” the hunter pulled his little brother into a close hug, “It was an accident.”  
Sam cried into his shoulder, clutching at him tightly and whimpering “Bad” over and over again.   
“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” Dean patted his back, “C’mon, buddy.”  
He managed to lead Sam upstairs and scrub the blood from his skin, peeling the soaked clothes from him and helping him into clean pyjamas. It was early even for Sam, it was barely 7pm. But it wasn’t a normal day.  
Dean put his brother to bed and sat beside him, holding his hand.   
“Dean…Sorry…bad…murder,” Sam whimpered and sniffled, hugging his teddy close, “Bad.”  
“Everything’s gonna be okay, buddy,” the older Winchester repeated, gasping as his brother caught him in a tight hug. He’d never done that before, he’d barely touch him. But Dean knew he had to do it now. There was nothing more he could do. He couldn’t keep stalling. How long before it happened again? What if Sam hallucinated and killed him this time, leaving himself alone and defenceless? Sam, the real Sam, wouldn’t want to live like this. Dean couldn’t save him, not anymore. And he knew what he needed to do.  
He stroked Sam’s hair soothingly as the younger Winchester clutched at his brother, teddy bear squeezed tight in his hand. He was beginning to calm down, beginning to drift off to sleep. He won’t feel a thing, Dean kept reassuring himself as he pressed the gun to the back of his brother’s head. It was loaded with a click, but Sam didn’t even notice.  
“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Dean whispered, closing his eyes tight.  
Bang  
The teddy bear tumbled from Sam’s limp hand, landing on Dean’s knee along with the deadweight of its owner.  
Dean woke to Sam crying in his sleep, begging something to stop. He couldn’t help but be relieved. Just a nightmare. Wiping the tears from his face, he got up to calm his little brother down.  
“Sammy,” he knelt beside the bed, not wanting to touch him, “Sammy it’s okay, you’re alright, buddy.”  
It didn’t help. Instead he sat up, awake, breathing heavily before throwing up all over himself. He stayed where he was a few seconds before whimpering forlornly and looking up at Dean, eyes sparkling with tears.   
“Aw, buddy,” Dean went to put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, but the younger Winchester shied away with his hands raised slightly, “C’mere, let’s get you cleaned up.”  
Sam slowly got out of bed, and Dean noticed the sheets, and Sam’s pyjamas, were soaking.   
“Yeah, you’re definitely getting cleaned up,” Dean stripped the bedsheets and threw them on the floor before ushering his brother to the bathroom.   
“I better not have to start buying diapers,” the older Winchester grumbled tiredly, filling up the bathtub. Sam stood there, hunched over and curled in on himself, mumbling something inaudible. Dean grabbed clean pyjamas for his brother before helping him out of his current ones. Sam complained and tried to get away from his brother, not enjoying the contact in the slightest. Dean was close to leaving the room, he’d barely slept since Sam had been taken to Bobby’s, and being Sam’s full time caregiver definitely wasn’t the easiest job. He knew his brother wasn’t doing it on purpose to spite him, but he didn’t cooperate, couldn’t do anything for himself. Dean was getting increasingly frustrated, but didn’t want to upset Sam.  
“Sammy, please. I’m not gonna hurt you,” Dean sighed, “Get in the bath, c’mon. The water’ll get cold.”  
Sam looked to his brother fearfully, looking to the bath.  
“Go on, it won’t bite,” Dean gestured to the bath, “I’ll help you, alright?”   
“H-help,” Sam mumbled, reaching out his hands to the older Winchester.   
“C’mon then. In you get,” Dean took his hands and helped him into the tub. Sam sat in the water, allowing his brother to wash his hair. His skin was burning to the touch, and he was shivering, but Dean made sure he was clean before getting him out and wrapping him in a towel.   
Sam was tucked back up in bed, teddy bear in hand, but stayed sat up and didn’t settle.   
“You need to rest, buddy,” Dean said quietly, sitting beside his bed, “You need to get better.”  
“No…n-no,” Sam mumbled, clinging to his teddy and yawning, “No.”  
“See, you’re sleepy,” the older Winchester couldn’t help but chuckle, “You always did that. Insist you wanted to stay up late, but you never stopped yawnin’. Ended up falling asleep within five.”  
“No.”  
“You’re afraid of your nightmares, I know,” Dean sighed, “Don’t be scared, Sammy. Your big brother will kick Lucifer’s butt, right?”  
The younger Winchester stared at him blankly.   
“When he tries to hurt you in a nightmare, tell him he’s a stinky stupidface,” the hunter raised an eyebrow, “S’what you used to call me when you were a squirt.”  
Unexpectedly, Sam started giggling. A nervous, childish laugh, but a laugh all the same, “Stinky.”  
“Yeah, you got it. You don’t need me to defeat Lucifer, you can do it,” Dean smiled, “Get some rest, buddy.”  
Sam whimpered again, “no.”  
“Hey, it’s alright. Nothing can hurt you, Sammy. I’m right here to protect you. And you see this?” Dean leaned and poked the teddy bear’s nose.  
“Ted,” Sam corrected, hugging the stuffed animal close.  
“Yeah, Ted. You always told me that Ted kept you safe and fought off monsters,” the hunter smiled encouragingly, “I bet he’ll help you make Lucifer go away, right? He’ll protect you.”  
“Ted,” a small smile appeared on Sam’s lips. He yawned again, lying down and curling up into a ball.  
“Atta boy,” Dean tucked the covers over him, “Night, Sammy.”  
He waited until his brother had fallen asleep before turning in himself, hoping to sleep for the rest of the night. To his fortune, Sam managed to sleep through the night and didn’t wake until midday. Bobby washed Sam’s bedsheets and Dean was grateful to sleep in for a few hours.   
Sam was awake when Dean woke up, just curled up on his side and staring into space. He was mumbling quietly, the same word repeatedly.  
“Cas, Cas, Cas,” Sam clutched at his teddy bear, “Cas.”  
“Morning, Sammy,” Dean yawned, sitting up and looking at his alarm clock, “Oh, afternoon.”  
Sam flinched, but kept on repeating the angel’s name.  
“Cas is busy, buddy. He can’t come right now,” the hunter got out of bed, “You’re stuck with me.”  
The younger Winchester didn’t react, just carried on mumbling. Bobby came into the room with a tray for the both of them.  
“’bout time you two woke up,” he smirked, and Sam leapt up like a startled cat, backing into the corner and sitting with his knees to his chest. Bobby sighed, “Guess he’s still not feelin’ too good.”  
“Sammy, it’s okay. It’s just Bobby, you know him. He won’t hurt you,” Dean said reassuringly. Sam was shivering in the corner, partly from fear and partly from his fever.  
“Cas!” he cried out suddenly, hiding his face in his knees.  
“He’s not here, Sammy,” Dean repeated, looking to Bobby in exasperation.  
“Give ‘im time, Dean,” Bobby raised an eyebrow, “He can’t help it.”  
The older hunter put the tray down on the bedside table, “Got Sam’s meds, wasn’t sure if he’d be hungry but I got cornflakes for him if he wants ‘em.”  
He left the room in the hopes Sam would calm down and be more cooperative.   
“You’re shivering, buddy,” Dean stood up and approached his brother slowly, “C’mon, you won’t get better if you don’t stay in bed.”  
Sam looked up at him, “Cas.”  
“Cas isn’t here, Sammy. I’m sorry. He can’t be here all the time,” Dean sighed, “But he’d want you to get better, right? You don’t like being sick, I know you don’t.”  
“S-sick,” Sam mumbled, “Bed. B-bed.”  
“Yeah, you need to get back in bed,” the older Winchester, regardless of Sam’s protests, hauled him to his feet and led him to the bed. Sam cried out in fear and tugged at his arm to be set free, but calmed down pretty quickly once he was back in his bed.   
“Time for meds, Sammy,” Dean picked up the small medical cup of tablets and capsules. He could only hope that stuff was actually helping him, “Let’s see how to do this...”  
Sam stared fearfully at the looming cup of pills as Dean tried to tip them into his brother’s mouth. How the hell did the nurse manage it?  
“Stop,” Sam whimpered, beginning to scratch at his arm. Blood pooled around the broken cut.  
“Sammy!” Dean snapped in response, regretting it instantly as Sam threw him without touching him. Hitting the floor with a grunt of pain and with the meds scattered all over the floor, the older Winchester slowly pushed himself up. Sam was curled in a ball, clawing at his skin and crying.  
“Stop,” he begged, rocking back and forth, “Stop, stop.”  
His voice slowly got louder and louder until he was screaming, no longer forming words. Dean had gathered up the meds and put them aside, looking at his brother helplessly. How could he help him? They had no idea what he was seeing, nothing seemed to calm him. Had he been too selfish, dragged his little brother from the one place he could be safe and cared for properly? Dean had only been caring for Sam full time for less than a day and he just kept messing up. Snapping at him, having to touch him despite Sam hating it. Hell, he couldn’t even get his meds into him.   
He had to find something to pull his brother back. Sam’s teddy bear was already being crushed to death in his hand, there was nothing else. Dean searched through every drawer and space in the room, there had to be something. And there was. Under his bed was an old copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. Sam loved those books as a kid, he barely read anything else. He might not remember, but it was worth a shot. Sitting dangerously close to his brother on his bed, he began to read.  
At first his voice could barely be heard over Sam’s cries and screams. The clean bedsheets were becoming bloodstained, as well as Ted. But Dean kept reading. Eventually, Sam began to quieten, still scratching at his arms but noticeably calmer. It was a start. He wasn’t going to press for more.   
They got through a good few chapters with Sam lying calmly and listening to his brother, eyes fixated on him. Dean only stopped so he could attempt to get his brother to take his meds again.  
“Now, Sammy,” Dean said quietly, “You gotta have these, right? They might help with…whatever you’re seeing and hearing.”  
He held up the cup of pills, “Please cooperate with me here?”  
Sam stared at it fearfully but sat a little closer, opening his mouth fearfully. Dean carefully tipped the pills into his mouth and handed him the glass of water to wash them down with. The glass slipped from Sam’s hand as he watched in confusion, causing Dean to lunge and grab it. He managed to swipe it before it could smash on the floor, but ended up splashing some of the water on his face. A small smile appeared on Sam’s lips as if he were trying to fight it, and he allowed his brother to help him drink some water. Once the pills were swallowed, Sam batted at the glass with his hand, beginning to giggle childishly as water splashed onto Dean’s shirt.   
“Very funny,” Dean chuckled, putting the glass aside, “Now let’s do something about those arms.”  
Sam stayed where we was while his brother searched Bobby’s bathroom for some bandages. Sam whimpered in pain and tried to struggle away as Dean cleaned his scratches and wiped away the blood, but stayed reasonably calm considering.   
“Alright, Sammy. You gotta have these on so you don’t scratch anymore, okay?” Dean took out the bandages. Sam reached for it and grabbed it from his brother’s hand, unrolling some and examining it.   
“Yeah, it’ll help your arms get better,” the older Winchester smiled at him and took the bandages back, “You can’t keep hurting yourself, Sammy.”  
Gently he began to wrap the bandages around his brother’s arms, but Sam didn’t react. He stared at his arms, intrigued, but didn’t move away.   
“That’s better, right?” Dean said softly, “You gotta keep these on. Don’t take them off.”  
Sam stared at him for a moment before lying down on his side, groaning and curling up.  
“You should eat something, buddy,” Dean picked up the bowl of cornflakes from the side, pouring the small jug of milk into it, “You must be starving.”  
Sam whimpered and curled in on himself, rolling over so he wasn’t facing him.  
“You haven’t eaten in at least a day, Sam,” Dean sighed, “C’mon. Just a spoonful? Two? You need your energy.”  
The younger Winchester grumbled and stayed put, avoiding Dean’s gaze. He let out a quiet whimper as his brother attempted to hold a spoonful out to him.  
“Guess not then,” Dean muttered, “You’re getting sleepy…get some rest.”  
Sam curled up and his eyes slowly closed, teddy clutched to his chest.  
“Let me clean Ted up, buddy,” the older Winchester managed to prise the stuffed animal out of his brother’s hand, “He’s got blood on him. He won’t like that, right?”  
“No…Ted!” Sam’s eyes were like saucers, tears leaking from his eyes in terror, “No!”  
“He’s dirty, Sammy. He’ll want to be clean,” Dean smiled reassuringly, “He’ll be back when you wake up.”  
He turned to leave the room, but Sam started to cry.   
“Ted!” he gasped, struggling to catch his breath. Sam started panicking, his breathing quick and shallow, causing him to irritate his already sore throat.   
“Hey, hey, Sammy, breathe. Breathe. It’s okay, you’re okay,” Dean put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, and he let out a small, panicked cry. He pressed the teddy back into Sam’s hand, “Look, he’s back. I won’t take Ted away from you, okay? We can clean him up later.”  
Sam instantly hugged his stuffed animal to his chest and buried his nose in its fur, whimpering and struggling to breathe normally.  
“Have some water,” Dean held the glass close to his brother, who aggressively batted it away with his hand. The glass slipped from Dean’s grip and exploded into shards on the floor. The noise startled Sam, causing him to have a coughing fit and clutch at his bear.   
“Sammy, breathe, okay? Breathe,” Dean was trying his best to calm his brother down, “Just breathe. You’ll be alright.”  
Eventually, Sam did calm down and curled up with his knees to his chest.   
“I’m sorry I scared you, Sammy. I won’t take Ted like that again,” Dean sighed, “Get some sleep, you’re exhausted.”  
Sam was staring into space, almost unresponsive. Dean stroked his hair, causing Sam to whimper and twitch, moving away from him. Instead, the hunter tucked the blankets over his brother carefully, leaving the room to give him some peace. In time, Sam’s eyes slowly drifted closed, and he fell asleep.  
Dean sat downstairs with Bobby in the living room, having a beer or two. It was good to finally catch a break, have some time for himself. He had his work cut out with Sam, he could tell getting some time off like this wouldn’t be a common occurrence.   
“He’ll get better, Dean. You’ll see,” Bobby shrugged, picking up an old pizza delivery menu, “Wanna call in?”  
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Dean took the menu and studied it, finishing off his beer, “I couldn’t get Sammy to eat.”  
“We’re gonna have to somehow, he’s already lost a ton of weight. If he doesn’t start eatin’ and drinkin’ soon he’s gonna put himself in the hospital again. Especially with all the throwin’ up he’s doing,” the older hunter shook his head.  
“I’ve tried, Bobby. He just looks at me like I’m trying to poison him,” Dean sighed in frustration, “We don’t even know what he went through down there.”  
“Well, we better figure out a strategy pronto,” Bobby looked at the older Winchester sternly.  
A couple hours went by and Dean and Bobby, mostly Dean, had polished off two pizzas and some nachos. Beers in hand, they watched old reruns on the TV, just enjoying the calmness and the freedom to do nothing. They both looked up, however, at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and quiet mumbling.  
“Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean,” Sam was mumbling under his breath as if trying to remember who he was looking for. He appeared in the doorway, large dark circles under his eyes more prominent in contrast with his pale skin. He was hunched over, making himself look smaller. It was then Dean noticed how thin his little brother had become. Sam was still reasonably strong, he’d managed to retain some muscle it seemed, but he looked like he had the lanky teenage frame he’d grown out of years ago.   
“You alright, buddy?” Dean smiled at him, and to his surprise, Sam nodded. He stayed silent, wrapping his arms around himself nervously.  
“You hungry? Do you want me to take you back upstairs?” Dean asked, but Sam just sat beside him on the couch, curling up into his brother’s side and burying his head in his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around Dean, clinging tightly. In a state of shock, Dean’s vision blurred with tears as slowly he hugged his little brother back. Bobby watched without saying a word, glad that Sam was at least showing signs of recovery.   
“I’ve gotcha, little brother,” Dean said softly, “Nothing’s gonna hurt you again.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sam was finally on the mend and his fever had come down, but he still mostly stayed in bed. He felt safer there, and now he had a TV and every Disney movie imaginable, what reason was there to leave? He stayed where he was, his teddy clutched in his hand, watching movie after movie.   
But he was getting thinner, he was barely eating and Dean was getting increasingly concerned. He wouldn’t eat and rarely got a full night’s sleep. Too often he woke up to find Sam sitting awake, staring at the DVD menu of the last Disney movie he watched. He’d try to get him to sleep but he’d refuse, too engrossed in the repetitive music and animation of the menu, and too afraid to risk having a nightmare.   
Dean woke up just a week after Sam came to Bobby’s and found Sam curled up asleep. His teddy was on the floor, he must have dropped it in his sleep. The older Winchester couldn’t help but smile, Sam was actually getting some sleep for once. He didn’t have the heart to wake him, so went downstairs to make himself breakfast.  
“He alright?” Bobby asked from the kitchen table, as he did every morning. He’d left some bacon on a plate for both Dean and Sam if they wanted it.   
“Sleeping for once,” Dean replied, making himself a bacon sandwich and cutting up the remaining bacon into small pieces for Sam to have once he woke up, “I don’t know how he’s even still functioning.”  
“He’s gettin’ there, son. At least he is eating, and he is gettin’ some sleep even if it ain’t much. We’re doin’ the best we can here,” Bobby sighed, “If you’re findin’ it too much, then you know what we have to do.”  
“I’ve told you already. He’s not going back there. He just needs to settle, get used to a new routine. Sam, the real Sam, he’d rather put a bullet through his head rather than stay in that place. Stuck in his room, fed crappy food and being pumped up with pills the moment he gets a little too unsettled for the nurse’s liking. What kind of life is that?” Dean was babbling, he’d make any excuse to keep Sam out of another hospital.  
“You could say the same about his life right now, Dean. Look at ‘im. He’s not doing anything. Sam wouldn’t want that either, by your logic that means…”   
“Stop it,” Dean shot Bobby a glare, “He stays here and that’s final.”  
Bobby raised his hands defensively, “Fine, fine. Then quit whinin’. Get him outside for some fresh air, might do ‘im some good.”  
The older hunter went to go fix up a car outside, and Dean turned to go upstairs only to find Sam standing there. His clothes hung on him awkwardly as he wrung his hands anxiously.  
“Morning, Sammy,” Dean smiled at him, “You alright? Sleep okay?”  
Sam shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself, “L-Luce…Luce.”  
“He can’t hurt you anymore, okay? Remember what I told you to tell him if he rudely interrupts your dreams?” Dean said encouragingly.  
“Stinky,” the younger Winchester didn’t even smile this time.  
“That’s right,” Dean chuckled, “Look what Bobby cooked up for you for breakfast.”  
He pushed the plate of bacon towards his brother, but Sam widened his eyes in terror as if he’d been presented with a severed limb.  
“N-no,” he whispered, taking a step back.  
“What’s wrong, Sammy? It’s just bacon, you like bacon,” Dean frowned, holding the plate out to him. In a panic, Sam knocked it from Dean’s hand, sending the plate and its contents crashing to the floor. He cried out in response to the smashing sound, stumbling backwards and falling to the floor himself.  
“No, no, no, no,” Sam shook his head and curled up in a ball, hands covering his ears, “No, no, no, no.”  
“Everything okay in here?” Bobby stood in the doorway, “Heard a crash.”  
“Apparently Sammy doesn’t like bacon,” Dean said in exasperation, kneeling beside his brother, “It’s okay, buddy. You don’t have to have bacon if you don’t want it.”  
Sam stayed silent, his eyes squeezed shut. His teddy bear laid abandoned on the floor.  
“Hey, looks like you dropped someone,” Dean held it out to his brother, and Sam opened his eyes a fraction.  
“T-ted,” Sam whimpered, reaching out his hand, “Ted.”  
He grabbed the stuffed animal and reached his other hand to Dean, “Up.”  
“Up ya get,” Dean hauled him to his feet, “Well, if you don’t want bacon, what do you want?”  
Sam mumbled something inaudible, lifting his shoulders slightly in a shrug.  
“Let’s see what I got in the fridge,” Bobby grunted, walking over to the kitchen. Sam stared at him nervously, but Dean led him over despite his protests  
“Stop, s-stop,” Sam mumbled, tugging on Dean’s arm.  
“It’s alright, buddy,” Dean sighed, “The fridge ain’t gonna hurt ya.”  
“We got some yogurt? Strawberry?” Bobby looked to Sam.  
“How ‘bout it?” Dean said encouragingly, “You like yogurt.”  
Sam nodded silently and went to sit at the table, “Juice. J-Juice.”  
“You want juice? I’ve only got orange in,” Bobby took out a carton.  
“Juice,” Sam confirmed, “Juice.”  
After Dean fed him three spoonfuls of yogurt and almost half a cup of juice, Sam refused to have anymore and turned his head away. Dean took it as a win, it was more than he’d eaten in a meal for days, and took him upstairs to get him dressed. The younger Winchester was reasonably cooperative as Dean dressed him, although he looked a little confused.   
“Shall we go for a walk, Sammy? A little walk around the yard?” Dean said hopefully as Sam stared at him blankly.  
“We won’t go far, okay? And if it gets too much we can come back inside,” the hunter was trying to sound as calm as possible, when in actuality he wanted to drag his brother outside for some fresh air.   
Sam pointed at his DVD of The Fox and the Hound, mumbling something, looking back at his brother expectantly.   
“We can watch that later, okay? Let’s go for a walk, huh?” Dean held out his hand, but Sam stood his ground. He picked up the DVD and handed it to Dean, he didn’t know how to put the DVDs on himself yet, hence why he would sit for hours watching DVD menus once the movie was done.  
“Later, Sammy,” Dean said firmly, putting the box down. Sam stared at the TV, waiting for the movie to start. He just stared, completely still, waiting.   
“I didn’t put the movie on,” Dean rolled his eyes, “C’mon. We can watch that, and all the movies you want when we get back.”  
Sam kept staring at the TV, just waiting, but startled when Dean took his hand and started leading him downstairs.  
“No, no, no,” Sam whimpered, tugging at his arm, “Stop. Stop.”  
“We need to go outside, Sam,” Dean let go of him with a sigh, “C’mon.”  
It took a while to coax Sam outside. He couldn’t be reasoned with, either he wasn’t understanding what Dean was saying, or he was just being stubborn. The first time Dean got him to the door to the yard, Sam looked outside for a split second before darting back upstairs and hiding behind his bed. By the look on his face, it was clear he hadn’t run away to be a nuisance.   
“Hey, it’s okay, buddy. Outside is perfectly safe, ‘specially with me to protect you,” Dean knelt beside his brother, “Five minutes? Just five minutes outside, Sam?”  
Sam slowly looked up at his brother, “F-five.”  
“Yeah? You’re okay with five?” Dean smiled, “Awesome. C’mon then.”  
Sam reached and took Dean’s hand, following him downstairs but hesitating once he got to the door. He said nothing, just looked fearfully out the window.  
“It’s fine, Sammy. You’ll be fine. I promise,” Dean said patiently, opening the door. After about a minute, Sam finally stepped outside. He winced in the sunlight, his eyes not used to such brightness due to being cooped up for so long, “See? Nothing to worry about.”  
The brothers walked around the yard, Sam looking around at everything. He pointed at all the cars, repeatedly saying “car”, as if giving Dean a commentary on everything he saw.  
“Yeah, there’s a lot of cars,” Dean chuckled, “You used to love playing round here.”  
“Car, car, car, car,” Sam mumbled, but suddenly his tone of voice changed, much softer and enthusiastic, “Hello.”  
“Uh, hey, Sammy,” Dean chuckled with slight confusion, until he turned to find his brother, cross-legged on the floor, petting a stray cat.  
“Hello cat,” Sam said quietly, giggling to himself as it rubbed against his leg and climbed into his lap. He was so gentle with it, very carefully stroking it’s fur like he was afraid of hurting it. Dean grimaced. That animal was probably filthy, not to mention it was going to flare up his allergies, but he didn’t disturb Sam. It was the happiest he’d seen him in days.   
Before he could stop himself, Dean sneezed, causing the cat to spook and run away. Sam let out a quiet whimper, looking up at his brother with tears in his eyes and a hurt expression.   
“Aw, I’m sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean to scare him off,” Dean helped his brother back onto his feet, “Maybe he’ll come back sometime, looks like you made a friend.”  
“F-friend…friend,” Sam mumbled, “Cat.”  
“I’m sure you’ll see your cat friend again,” Dean patted his shoulder, and for once he didn’t flinch away.   
Instead, Sam was pointing straight ahead of him, his whole body shaking, and within a second he ran back into the house. Satisfied that Sam had at least got some fresh air and exercise, Dean went back inside as well. Before he could find Sam, however, Castiel appeared in front of him.  
“Hello, Dean,” he said politely, “I think I have found to a way to remove Lucifer’s grace.”  
“You have?” Dean looked a little relieved, “Well, don’t just stand there, Cas!”  
Before the angel could move, Sam came running downstairs and grabbed him in a hug from behind.  
“Cas!” Sam said happily, “Cas!”  
“Hello, Sam,” Cas smiled at him, “Can I hug you properly?”  
“Y-yeah,” Sam let go, allowing the angel to turn around and hug him. Sam wrapped his arms tight around Cas, resting his head on his shoulder.   
“You’ve lost weight,” Castiel said a little sadly, looking to Dean, “Is he still not eating?”  
Sam appeared to lose interest and went back upstairs, while Dean explained how Sam was refusing to eat more than a few mouthfuls of food, and barely slept. Cas told Dean of his findings, the possibility of a syringe that can remove leftover grace. Sam returned to Dean and Cas, carrying some of his Disney DVDs.  
“Cas,” Sam looked pretty eager, “Look.”  
He handed the pile of DVDs to him, shifting his weight from foot to foot in nervous excitement.  
“Oh…these are nice, Sam,” Castiel frowned, putting the pile aside, “Can I talk to-”  
Sam had already run upstairs, coming back with another pile of DVDs.  
“Look,” Sam placed them in Cas’ hands, waiting for a response.  
“These are nice too,” Cas looked up at Dean in confusion. The ordeal continued, Sam bringing down some DVDs, giving them to Cas, waiting for a reaction and running back upstairs to do it again, until he’d shown him all the DVDs. By the end, Sam yawned and looked a little sleepy. All the excitement tired him out.   
“Ah-Ah-ri-ull,” Sam mumbled, pointing at the Little Mermaid.  
“What is he saying?” Cas talked in a hushed tone.  
“Ariel. His favourite’s Ariel,” Dean gestured to the DVD cover, “Sammy, Cas wants to talk to you. You gonna listen?”  
“Cas,” Sam said quietly, “Cas.”  
“I’m right here, Sam,” the angel stepped closer, holding out his hand to the younger Winchester. Slowly, he took it, following him to the couch where Cas sat him down.  
“Now, Sam,” Castiel said as authoritatively as he could, “You have to eat. It’s important, or you might get sick again. You don’t want to get sick again, do you?”  
Sam stared at him a little blankly before slowly shaking his head, “Not…sick.”  
“So, will you eat for me?” Cas was still holding Sam’s hand, but he didn’t respond. He wasn’t meeting Cas’ eyes, instead he was staring at the floor, “Sam?”   
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean picked up the DVD of The Fox and the Hound, “If you eat more today, Cas will watch this with you, how ‘bout that? And if you do really good, I’ll read you more Harry Potter before you go to sleep.”  
Sam instantly reached for the DVD, whimpering as if he were a toddler.   
“You have to eat first, Sam,” Cas was still trying to sound firm, “Then we can watch that.”  
Dean went into the kitchen and returned minutes later with sliced banana, holding out the plate and fork to Cas, “Want to do the honours?”  
Sam turned away from the food at first, completely refusing and getting more agitated by the second.   
“Has he had his medication today, Dean?” Castiel asked after managing to get Sam to eat one slice of banana.  
“Crap,” Dean cursed, “He was meant to have them hours ago.”  
“What time does he get up in the morning? And what time does he go to bed?” the angel pressed, letting Sam hold his tie for a moment.  
“Uh….between nine and twelve. He goes to bed whenever he gets tired. Can be as early as five, or as late as midnight. It changes every day. Sometimes he won’t even get out of bed,” Dean shrugged.  
“He ate better at the hospital, he slept better too,” Castiel smiled encouragingly as Sam accepted another slice.   
“If you’re saying Sam is better off in a-” Dean began, his voice defensive.  
“No, Dean. I don’t want him to go back to a hospital any more than you do. I just think you need to realise the problem here,” Cas let Sam take a break for a moment, hugging him close as the younger Winchester practically fell on him in a hug, “In the hospital, his routine was strict, and it was rigid. Lights on, breakfast, day room, meds, lunch, maybe something in the afternoon, dinner, lights out. Things like showers would have fit in there too. Here he’s got no structure, Dean. You get him up when you feel like it, give him any food at any time. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Keep him entertained, or at least give him things to keep himself occupied. You can’t let him sit and watch movies all day.”  
Sam buried his head in Cas’s shoulder, and the angel patted his head gently, “Give him a routine. I think he will respond much better.”  
Dean nodded, “You’re right. He just seems confused all the time.”  
Cas turned his attention back to Sam, “Will you eat more?”  
“Hug,” Sam mumbled, “Hug.”  
“You can hug me after you eat some more, Sam. You have to eat,” Cas picked up a slice of banana on the fork. Reluctantly, Sam ate the slice of banana, throwing himself at Cas in another hug.  
“Hey, a little more than one slice, Sammy,” Dean chuckled, “Nice try though.”  
Eventually Sam managed to eat half a banana and drink some juice before completely refusing to have anymore. It was something at least.  
As promised, Castiel watched The Fox and the Hound with Sam, while Dean tried to figure out some kind of routine for Sam. The younger Winchester was curled up beside Cas, his knees to his chest and his hand clutching at the blue tie for security. Occasionally he’d point at the screen, just to make sure Cas was still watching, which he was with slight confusion.   
“D-dog,” Sam looked at Cas, “Cas, dog.”  
“Yes, Sam. Well, in reality it’s a series of lines and colours animated to depict a dog, but-”  
“Cas,” Dean cut in, and the angel frowned at him for interrupting. Sam was staring at Cas, a confused, blank expression on his face, “It’s a dog. It’s a damn dog.”  
Cas tried to protest, but looking at Sam he changed his mind, “Yes, it’s a dog.”  
Sam nodded and went back to watching the movie, mumbling under his breath about dogs. Once the movie was over, Castiel found Sam asleep on him, curled up with his head rested on his shoulder.   
“Finally some sleep,” Dean smiled, frowning as Cas went to wake him, “Hey, let him rest. He’s exhausted.”  
The angel was stuck where he was until Sam finally woke up around an hour later. Bobby had finished his work on the car and was on the other couch with Dean, both with beers. Sam opened his eyes sleepily, looking up at Cas and smiling before looking over at Dean and Bobby.   
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” Dean smirked, and Sam stared at him for a moment before looking at Bobby.  
“H-hello,” he said quietly, clutching at Cas.  
“Hey there, Sam,” Bobby smiled at him, “You doin’ okay?”  
“Yeah…y-yeah,” Sam mumbled almost shyly, hugging Cas’ arm.   
Cas stayed until Sam ate something for dinner, and helped Dean put him to bed. He only managed a few fries, Bobby had cooked steaks but Sam wouldn’t go near his, nearing a panic attack as it was placed on his plate and put in front of him. They quickly clocked on that Sam seemingly had a phobia of meat or anything that looked like meat, so it was probably best to find some alternatives. Dean couldn’t bear to think what Sam went through to make him fear meat so much, he even got anxious watching Dean and Bobby eat meat. Castiel had to take him out of the room so he could eat his French fries without a disturbance. After another movie, this time Peter Pan, Sam once again fell asleep on Cas. He gently woke him up, and he and Dean got him ready for bed.   
“Goodnight, Sam,” Castiel said quietly, “Sleep well.”  
“Cas,” Sam frowned, reaching his arms up to him. Looked like he’d be staying until Sam was asleep again. He sat beside Sam, listening as Dean read more Harry Potter, watching the younger brother slowly fall asleep, clutching at his teddy.   
“Thanks, Cas,” Dean nodded to him, “You know how to take care of him better than I do.”  
“That’s not true, Dean. Sam needs you most. He still looks up to his big brother,” Castiel smiled, “And you’re doing a good job.”  
“Well, thanks,” the hunter ran a hand through his hair, “Don’t be a stranger, Cas.”  
“I don’t think Sam will let me be one,” Castiel said, “Goodnight, Dean.”  
After a couple hours making the most of the time off, Dean finally turned in, glad to see his brother still peacefully asleep in bed. He managed to get some good sleep himself, until he woke up to Sam collapsing.  
“Sammy?” in an instant, Dean was out of bed as Sam started seizing. He hadn’t had one in a while, Dean had hoped he’d recovered enough to never have one again, “Easy, buddy, easy. You’re alright…”  
Sam came to, still looking a little spooked. He reached and grabbed Dean’s hand, starting to cry.  
“Hey, hey, whatever scared you, whatever you saw, it wasn’t real. Okay? You’re safe. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything hurt you,” Dean gently pulled him into a hug.  
“Bad…b-bad dream,” Sam struggled with the words, but pressed on, “Try…t-try…try…”  
Dean was just impressed at how hard he was trying to talk, “Take your time, Sammy.”  
“Wake…try wake…D-Dean,” the younger Winchester looked at him, “S-scared.”  
“You tried to wake me up because you were scared?” Dean sighed, “I’m sorry, buddy. I can be a pretty heavy sleeper. If you need me to wake up then shake me, do whatever. If you need me that bad then I won’t be mad.”  
Sam sniffled and stared at the floor before eventually pushing himself up onto his feet. Dean took him back to bed before getting into bed himself, settling back down to sleep. That was until Sam climbed into Dean’s bed. They could barely both fit, it wasn’t as if they were kids anymore, but Dean was pretty certain that he wasn’t going to be able to persuade Sam to go back to bed very easily. He was way too tired to argue. It might be the only way to get Sam to sleep tonight. Moving even further over to give Sam more space, Dean tried his best to get back to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a MAJOR trigger warning of graphic self harm/attempted suicide/hearing voices. Please read with caution/skip this chapter if this affects you.

Dean laid awake, sleep-deprived and close to falling from the edge of the bed, Sam curled up in a ball beside him. The younger Winchester had clambered into his bed for the fourth night in a row, much to Dean’s dismay. While he was glad that Sam would get a good night’s sleep, it cost Dean his own. Sam rarely stayed still in his sleep, rolling over and back again and changing position frequently, not to mention the mumbling. The first night, Sam had said the word “ponies” repeatedly for three hours straight before Dean woke him to shut him up. The older Winchester felt awful, he wasn’t sure he could even see straight, let alone do his job. It was 6am, and his bags were packed. Insisting Dean needed to earn his keep, Bobby had found him a small hunting job not too far from Sioux Falls to keep himself busy. Dean, of course, had been unsure. His little brother had been topside for a couple months now, his bad nights and his seizures had become less frequent. But he was still struggling, his speech still difficult for him. He was very attached to Dean, following him everywhere around the house like a lost puppy, tugging on his sleeve when he wanted his attention. That was, until Castiel visited. The older Winchester was concerned about leaving his brother, even in the capable hands of Bobby. Sam was unpredictable, anything could spook him. But feeling bad for essentially invading Bobby’s home, Dean accepted the job. It’d take a couple days, tops, and Sam needed to start getting used to Dean not being around all the time.   
They hadn’t told Sam about the hunt, unsure how to break it to him, but they severely misjudged Sam’s intelligence. He’d overheard them outside his room the night before, he heard them discussing it while he was watching Bambi in the living room. He couldn’t sleep, afraid of being on his own, afraid of Dean not being able to protect him, afraid of Dean never coming home. Instead he insisted on sleeping in Dean’s bed in an attempt to stop him leaving.  
“Morning, Sammy,” Dean smiled at his brother as he dragged himself out of bed, “Should probably give you a shower, starting to smell over there.”  
He grinned at Sam teasingly, but he didn’t react, instead curling up in a tighter ball and glancing at Dean with an abandoned puppy expression.  
“What’s up with you?” Dean reached out his hand to Sam, who took a few seconds before taking it, “Sammy?”  
“Don’t…go. Don’t…go,” Sam mumbled, unable to meet his big brother’s eyes.  
“Don’t go?” Dean let out a slow sigh, “Only for a day or two, buddy. Then I’ll be back home again right away, don’t you worry about that.”  
Sam’s eyes sparkled with tears.   
“Aw, Sammy. I gotta go. People need saving, right?” Dean got no response, “Hey, how about you go pick out a movie, one we can watch the second I get back, right? I’ll get some snacks on the way home. Give you something to look forward to.”  
“Don’t…go,” Sam whined, looking at him pleadingly.  
“I have to, Sammy. I can’t sit around here all day. If Bobby’s gonna let us stay here, I gotta be at least some use,” Dean patted Sam’s shoulder, “C’mon, up you get.”  
Sam reluctantly followed his brother to the bathroom, his thin frame hunched over in the shower as he stared at Dean with sad eyes.   
“Bobby will take good care of you, Sam. He’ll watch movies with you and probably get you pizza if you want. You know Bobby, he’ll keep you safe,” Dean wrapped a soft, fluffy towel around his brother once he got out the shower.   
Once Sam was dressed, his shaggy hair brushed and neat, Dean took him downstairs where Bobby had a bowl of lucky charms waiting for him.   
“Charms,” Sam mumbled, a small smile on his face.   
“Tha’s right, Sam,” Bobby handed him a spoon, “Want some milk with those?”  
“Please,” Sam nodded, sitting down at the table, holding his spoon with a childish grip.   
“You want to try and eat them yourself?” Dean sat beside him, smiling at him encouragingly.   
“Y-yeah,” Sam looked at Dean, then his spoon, a little unsure.   
“How ‘bout we go half way,” Dean held onto Sam’s hand and gently guided it to the bowl, Sam watched in slight confusion, but managed to eat his spoonful of cereal.  
“Way to go, Sammy!” Dean grinned, “You barely even needed my help.”  
“Did,” Sam shrugged.   
“Nahh, we don’t have to tell anyone that,” Dean chuckled, “We’ll tell everyone you did it all on your own.”  
Sam let out a quiet giggle and let Dean help him feed himself, only managing a couple spoonfuls before he remembered Dean was leaving, putting him off his appetite.   
Bobby found Sam pacing the living room, wringing his hands with tears streaming down his cheeks while Dean was getting ready to leave. He was mumbling to himself, whimpering on occasion, just looking a little lost.  
“Sam?” Bobby put a hand on his shoulder, and the younger man whipped around, almost hitting Bobby in the face. The older hunter jumped back and narrowly missed being struck.  
“S-sorr…sorry,” Sam wrapped his arms around himself, “Sorry.”  
“S’alright, son. Shouldn’t have scared ya,” Bobby gave him a reassuring smile, “You alright?”  
“Y-ye…no…” he gave up and shrugged instead.   
“I know yer worried,” Bobby patted Sam’s shoulder, with his permission, “We’ll be alright, won’t we? And Dean’ll be back before ya know it.”  
“Watch…watch…” Sam wandered off mid-sentence and found his box of Disney movies, sitting cross-legged on the floor while he chose one. He returned with Brother Bear, holding it out to Bobby, “Watch bears?”  
“Sure, we can watch that. I gotta fix up some cars too, so you can help me if you want to, or just watch. How ‘bout that?” Bobby took the DVD box.  
“Cars,” Sam repeated, not seeming to answer the question. He heard Dean come down the stairs and instantly went to him, throwing himself at his brother in a hug.  
“Woah!” Dean yelped, “Alright, alright, Sammy. I gotcha,” Dean patted his back gently, “I’ve gotta go now, buddy.”  
“No,” Sam sniffled, keeping Dean trapped in his strong embrace, “Stay.”  
“I’ll only be a couple days,” Dean sighed, “I’ll call the moment I get there, you can tell me all about what you and Bobby have done.”  
“Dee,” Sam kept hold of his brother, burying his face in his shoulder.   
“Aw, Sammy,” Dean tried to prise Sam off him, but he was stronger than he looked. Sam only held him tighter.   
“Okay…okay, Sammy. Sammy I can’t breathe, you’re gonna have to let go,” Dean choked his words out, and thankfully Sam loosened his grip.   
“You were meant to be gone five minutes ago,” Bobby grunted as he came outside.   
“Easier said than done,” Dean managed to escape Sam’s grip, catching his arms when he tried to hug him again.  
“C’mon, Sam. Dean’s gotta go,” Bobby put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, gently pulling him toward him.   
“No…n-no,” Sam shook his head, “No…stay.”  
“Just a couple days, Sammy,” Dean smiled at him encouragingly, “You behave yourself, alright?”  
Sam curled in on himself, but mumbled, “Y-yeah.”  
“That’s my boy,” Dean chuckled, “I’ll call when I get there.”  
The younger Winchester watched his brother go helplessly, tears trickling down his cheeks. Bobby was talking to him, reassuring him that everything would be just fine, Dean would come home safe and sound before he knew it. Sam wasn’t listening. Instead, he grabbed the older hunter into a hug, mumbling something inaudible. As usual, he didn’t realise his own strength, so Bobby had to forcefully loosen Sam’s grip on him just to be able to breathe.  
“How ‘bout we go watch that movie you wanted?” Bobby patted his shoulder, “Take yer mind off things.”  
“’Kay,” Sam mumbled, following him back indoors and settling on the floor in front of the couch, his knees to his chest.  
“Sure you don’t want to sit up here? I don’t take up that much space,” Bobby chuckled.  
“No,” Sam was perfectly content where he was, resting his chin on his knees.  
“Well, alright. Sit tight, I gotta get your meds,” Bobby said, then muttered under his breath, “And a beer if I’m gonna have to sit through some cartoon.”  
Either Sam didn’t hear that last part, or he didn’t care. He sat staring at the TV screen, squeezing his fist but realising his teddy bear wasn’t there.  
“Ted,” Sam said quietly, “Ted? Ted?”  
Bobby heard him calling for his teddy bear, but left him to it. Once he had Sam’s meds however, he returned to find the living room empty.  
“Sam?” Bobby raised his voice. The younger Winchester appeared in the doorway, arms wrapped around his waist, “Yer alright, son?”  
“Ted,” Sam mumbled, “Lost Ted.”  
“Your bear?” Bobby asked, and Sam nodded.  
“Ted,” Sam repeated, “Put…put…”  
He was starting to shake, wringing his hands and shifting his feet nervously. He couldn’t get his words out.  
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. We’ll find ‘im. Where’d ya last see ‘im?” Bobby went to put a hand on his shoulder, but Sam shied away.   
“Don’t…don’t…know,” Sam mumbled, “Gone.”  
“He’s not gone, we’ll find ‘im, you’ll see,” Bobby said calmly, “He was with you when you woke up?”  
“Y-yeah,” Sam shrugged.  
“C’mon then, lets retrace your steps,” Bobby led him upstairs, “Dean helped you shower when you woke up, right?”  
“Sh-shower,” Sam repeated, following the older hunter into the bathroom and gasping in delight at the sight of his bear sitting comfortably in the soap dish, “Ted!”  
He scrambled forward and picked up his stuffed animal with a childish grin, hugging it close to his face.   
“There ya go. All fixed. Shall we go watch your movie now?”   
Sam nodded silently, his eyes sparkling happily from behind his teddy. He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV, watching the screen eagerly while Bobby put the TV on.  
“Bears,” Sam mumbled.   
“Tha’s right, its about bears,” Bobby chuckled, going into the kitchen and returning with a cup of juice and the little cup of Sam’s meds, “Can’t watch til you’ve got your meds in you.”  
Obediently, Sam swallowed his pills and some juice, and Bobby put the movie on for him. He sat and watched intently, giggling to himself occasionally. Bobby couldn’t help but smile just watching him.  
“Dee,” Sam said quietly toward the end of the movie, “Dee.”  
“Dean’ll be home in a couple days,” Bobby said reassuringly, “Don’t you worry.”  
Bobby had to take some calls, and Sam was entertaining himself. He’d found some crayons, probably left from when he and Dean were kids, and Bobby had given him some paper so he could draw if he wanted to.   
Sam was perfectly content, drawing whatever sprang to mind. Until the things that sprang to mind weren’t nice things. His drawings got progressively darkier, scarier. He started drawing detailed depictions of hell, of torture, of all the bad things he could remember.   
The lights began to flicker while Bobby was answering a call, the electrics interfered with enough to disconnect the phones temporarily. Bobby sighed, knowing what it most likely meant. He wasn’t wrong.   
Sam was sprawled on the floor, having just had a seizure. Bobby knelt beside him, grabbing a cushion from the couch and sliding it under Sam’s head, keeping him as comfortable as possible until he came around. His eyes were wide and frightened, he whimpered nervously as he tried to sit up and move.   
“S’alright, son. You’re alright. Take your time, take it easy,” Bobby said calmly. He gently caught Sam’s shoulder as he tried to sit upright almost straight away, “Slowly.”  
Sam cried out, flinching away and curling up into a ball. He rocked back and forth, head on his knees, mumbling to himself frantically. Bobby noticed the drawings on the floor, how they went from innocent doodles of animals, and a detailed, impressive drawing of Dean, to vivid, dark depictions of awful things. After a graphic, detailed drawing of what appeared to be Lucifer disembowelling Sam, Bobby picked up the papers and put them on the side. He’d probably have to show Dean later.   
“Sam?” Bobby’s voice was cautious, “You’re safe, alright? You’re in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, remember? He can’t hurt you anymore. We won’t let him.”  
Sam wasn’t listening, his knuckles white as he clutched at his knees. He was crying now, his whole body shaking. Bobby felt a little helpless, Sam responded to Dean much better than he did with him. He improvised, taking the nearest DVD from Sam’s box and putting it on. Fortunately, it was Sam’s favourite, The Little Mermaid, so the moment it started Sam visibly calm down. The shaking stopped eventually, he looked up and stared at the screen. He was still in his curled up position, but he’d stopped crying. There was even a faint smile on his lips.   
“Maybe this’ll help too,” Bobby picked up Sam’s bear, laying abandoned on the floor nearby. Sam reached his hand out instantly, glancing at Bobby fearfully before focusing his gaze on the bear.   
“You’re alright, Sam,” Bobby said calmly, “I’ll make sure o’ that.”  
Sam was alright for the remainder of the day. He asked for a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, which Bobby cut into small pieces to make it easier for Sam to eat. He ate over half the pieces before pushing the plate away, and gulped down a couple glasses of juice. Bobby praised him, he’d never seen him eat so much since he’d got out.  
Once it was time for Sam to go to bed, when he was falling asleep on the couch and beginning to mumble to himself, Bobby took him upstairs and helped him change.   
“Bobby,” Sam mumbled, raising his arms up so Bobby could take his shirt off and help him into his pyjamas.  
“Yeah, Sam?”  
“Dee?” Sam asked, “Dee?”  
“He’ll be back soon, alright? He’s gotta work,” Bobby said reassuringly, “Don’t you worry.”  
“Dee…call?” the younger Winchester looked at him with his infamous puppy eyes, “Call?”  
“He probably forgot. Y’know what he’s like. But when he does call, I’ll give ‘im a talkin’ to for not callin’ you,” Bobby chuckled, “C’mon, brush yer teeth, use the bathroom, do all that.”  
Bobby took him to the bathroom and waited outside to give him privacy. Bobby’s cell rang – finally Dean was getting in touch.  
“Hey, Bobby, sorry I called late, got a little caught up in stuff,” Dean said, “How’s Sammy?”  
“He’s alright. Got real freaked out earlier though, had another seizure,” Bobby sighed, “But he’s alright now. Gettin’ ready for bed.  
“Dee!” Bobby heard from the bathroom, and Sam scrambled out with toothpaste all around his mouth. He hadn’t quite got the hang of brushing his teeth yet.  
“There he is,” Dean chuckled, “Put ‘im on.”  
“Dee! Dee!” Sam didn’t know what to say, smiling excitedly as he gripped the phone, “Dee.”  
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here, buddy,” Dean laughed, “Heard you’ve been real good.”  
“Yeah…y-yeah,” Sam’s voice quietened, “Come…back?”  
“Not yet, Sammy. Soon, alright? Is Bobby taking good care of you?”  
“Yeah…Bobby,” Sam smiled at him as he spoke, “Bobby…g-good.”  
“I’m glad to hear it. I gotta go now, alright? You sleep well. I’ll call tomorrow.”  
“’kay,” Sam said sadly, “B-bye.”  
“Bye, Sammy,” Dean smiled to himself, saying goodbye to Bobby before disconnecting the call. Sam was still smiling, just hearing from his brother had perked him up.   
“Let’s get all that toothpaste off yer face, then,” Bobby smirked. Once Sam was all ready for bed, Bobby tucked him in and patted his shoulder.  
“Ya did real good today, Sam,” he said with a smile, “I’m proud of ya.”  
Sam didn’t say anything, but a smile crept onto his lips.   
“Well, goodnight,” Bobby nodded to him and went to turn off the light.  
“No!” Sam gasped, “Dark…d-dark. No dark.”  
“Oh, sorry,” Bobby said sheepishly, “D’ya have the lamp on or this light?”  
Sam pointed to the lamp on the bedside table, which Bobby turned on for him before turning off the main light.  
“Bobby,” Sam mumbled, “Bobby.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Read?” Sam was still sat up in bed, no effort made to try and settle.   
“Read?” Bobby frowned.  
“D-Dean…Dean read,” Sam looked at the Harry Potter book by his bed, “Read?”  
“Oh, you want me to read it to you?” Bobby hesitantly picked up the book. He’d read to Sam a couple times when he was a kid, when he was having nightmares. Too often the young boy was left in Bobby’s care while Dean and John were off on a case. Hell, there was even that time Sam had been left in a motel room for days on his own when Dean got himself arrested for stealing. The kid was stuck at Bobby’s for almost a month, confused and feeling a little abandoned by his family. Bobby had always done his best to make sure Sam was comfortable, happy, entertained. He’d never been very paternal but he tried his damndest. It was just so strange taking care of Sam now. He was twenty-eight years old, it wasn’t that long since he’d been his independent, stubborn self. But that Sam was long gone, replaced by the anxious, terrified shell Lucifer had turned him into. He was a full grown adult but acted almost exactly has he had as a child, albeit more timid. It saddened the older hunter to see him this way, he hoped he’d get better, get back to the Sam everyone knew and loved, but as the days passed it was looking more and more unlikely.  
“Please,” Sam gave him a dimpled smile, his eyes for once sparkling with happiness. He’d never looked so happy, and although Bobby hated to admit it, it warmed his heart.  
Bobby read a chapter of Harry Potter to Sam until he fell asleep, then went downstairs for a beer. He was satisfied that he’d one a good job looking after Sam, when he’d been a little nervous about triggering his anxieties. Sam had adjusted well to Dean not being around, which seemed to be a step in the right direction.   
Sam woke up frequently to nightmares, to the point where Bobby gave up on sleeping. He stayed up looking for possible cases, tending to Sam when he started screaming or crying in his sleep. He was scared out of his wits, and Dean’s absence clearly wasn’t helping. One time, Bobby found him in Dean’s bed, curled up with the pillow hugged to his chest. Perhaps he wasn’t so comfortable with Dean being away just yet.   
Bobby let Sam sleep in, staying close to his room in case he needed him. Eventually, the younger Winchester made his appearance, his hair messy and sticking up in all directions and with dark circles under his eyes, curled in on himself with his teddy in his hand.  
“You alright, Sam?” Bobby asked a little cautiously.  
“Bad,” Sam mumbled, “Bad, bad.”  
“Yeah, didn’t have a very good night, did ya?” Bobby sighed, “S’alright, son. You were real brave.”  
Sam shrugged and looked at the floor, “Wasn’t.”  
“Sure you were. You went right back to sleep once you calmed down. Yer brother woulda stayed up cryin’ all night,” Bobby smirked, and Sam let out a nervous giggle.   
“Dee…Dee…brave,” Sam mumbled, then looked towards the stairs, “Charms?”  
“Yeah, c’mon. Let’s get you some breakfast. You earned it, kid,” Bobby patted his back, cringing as Sam whimpered and leapt aside, “Sorry, sorry.”  
After another movie, this time Lilo and Stitch, Bobby needed to start working on some cars. He put it off the day before, prioritising Sam and ensuring he was comfortable. He couldn’t put it off any longer, however, so Sam would have to cooperate. It was just Bobby’s luck that the ex-hunter was seeming to be struggling.  
“We gotta go outside, Sam. I got work to do. If you want, you can help me?” Bobby tried to sound encouraging, but just looking at Sam’s face he knew it was going to be a long battle.   
Sam wouldn’t move, in fact it was almost as if he couldn’t hear Bobby at all. He was sat bolt upright, staring at the blank TV screen and mumbling to himself incoherently over and over again. He was quivering lightly, his hand squeezing his teddy bear rhythmically.   
“Sam?” Bobby frowned, “Sam, c’mon, I have to work.”  
“Can’t…don’t…don’t want to…can’t…bad…bad…” Sam mumbled, slowly putting his hands over his ears, “Stop it…no…stop it.”  
In defeat and unsure what else to do, Bobby put another movie on for Sam. Slowly, he snapped out of his trance, going back to looking at the screen and looking perfectly content. Concluding he’d be okay while the movie was on, Bobby left Sam in the living room and went out into the yard to work.   
It wasn’t long before Sam got uneasy again. With no one around to reassure him, the voices started to get louder again. When others were around, they were quieter, more timid, knowing that if Sam got upset, there was someone there to calm him down and make them go away. But they knew the moment Sam was alone, they could wreak havoc in his head, crush him, laugh at him, create more anxieties and build on the existing ones. When they were strong enough they’d sneak into his vision, they’d make him see things, horrible things that wouldn’t go away when his eyes were closed. When Sam was alone, the voices in his head had full control over him.   
All alone I see, one voice said, right in his ear. Sam flinched, shaking his head as if trying to shake the voice out.   
“No,” Sam whimpered, “No…no…stop…please.”  
But we’re your friends, another spoke up, sounding hurt, You’d be nothing without us.  
“Dee,” Sam whined, “Dee.”  
I’m not here, Sam, Sam gasped as Dean started talking in his head, Thank God. I’m glad to get a break from you, get away from that burden.   
“Dee?”  
Here he goes again with the whining. When will you grow the fuck up, Sam? You’re not a kid, you’re a pain in the ass adult. You’re pathetic, you know that? You drag me away from Lisa and Ben, my family. I was happy there, Sam. I had a life. It was great. I didn’t have to waste my time looking out for you. And then you came back and everything went to shit. But dad told me to watch out for you. Can’t let him down. But God, I wish he’d kept his trap shut.   
“Stop…stop it,” Sam begged, tears streaming down his cheeks, “Stop it.”  
I’ve loathed you from the moment you were born. And then you killed my mom. Hell, its your fault Dad is dead too. I should never have carried you out of that house. I should have left you in there to burn. I should have left you there to die.  
“Stop it, stop it!” Sam cried, his hands clamped over his ears.  
At least Dad and I would be happy. Maybe we coulda had a normal life. But instead we had to drag you around, deal with your freakishness. We always hated you, Sam. We just didn’t wanna let mom down.  
You’re worthless, Sam, the first voice laughed harshly right in his ear, You broke the world, everyone around you dies.   
You’re better off dead. I should have put a bullet in your brain the moment I found you in that hospital. You’re past saving, Sam. What’s the point? Sitting around watching lame ass cartoons. It’s pathetic, its hilarious.  
Sam hid his face, breaking down in tears.  
That’s right. Realise how much you’ve ruined for everyone else. Y’know, I feel bad for Bobby. He begged me not to leave you with him. He’s tired of you, Sam. He’s tired of you screwing everything up. He doesn’t even want you here, you’re not worthy of him putting a roof over your head. He wishes he could kick your sorry ass to the curb, but he knows the moment the cops find you, you’ll be shipped right back to him. He’s stuck with you. At least I could get away, Dean’s voice was harsh and malicious, maybe I won’t come back.  
“No…no…” Sam shook his head desperately, “Dee…Dee! Come…back!”  
Oh boo hoo, Sam. Once again with the whining. You’re unbearable, you know that? An unbearable burden, the first voice cackled loudly, causing Sam to cry out with the overload of it.  
“Leave…leave me alone,” Sam begged through the tears, sobbing.  
But you haven’t said hello to your best friend yet. He’s dying to talk to you.  
All colour left Sam’s face, “No. No. Don’t…don’t…don’t want to. No. No.”  
That’s not very nice, the second voice snickered, he’s missed you, Sam. You should be grateful, no on else ever does.   
Sam could barely move he was shaking so much. He wanted to get up, to run to Bobby, but he was stuck. Bobby wouldn’t even want him anyway. What was the point?  
Hello, Sam.  
Sam froze completely, hugging his legs with his eyes wide.   
“L-Luce,” he whimpered, “Go…go ‘way.”  
But I’ve missed you, Sammy. We got some catching up to do.   
“No,” Sam said as firmly as he could manage.  
When are you coming back to me? Your vacation’s been long enough. I’ll have to send some guys out to come bring you home.  
“Not…home,” Sam mumbled, “Not.”  
Sure it is. You’re not wanted anywhere else.  
Sam didn’t know what to say. He’d felt that way so much as it was that he couldn’t even argue against it. He just cried, shaking and staying curled up, making himself as small as possible. They kept talking to him, belittling him, pushing him further and further down until it was unbearable. But then they took a different tone.   
Sam, Dean spoke up after being silent for a while, Look over there.   
He looked up and focused exactly on what he was referring to. Bobby had left his pocket knife on the coffee table. Sam moved closer to it, staring at it, doing as the voices told him and picking it up. The voices got excited, eager.  
Do it, Sammy.  
You need pain. You deserve it.  
I can’t do it myself, you’ll have to do it for me, Lucifer chuckled.   
After encouragement and increasing pressure in his head, Sam sliced his arm with the blade, letting out a whimper at the initial shock. The cut began to sting, and tears came to his eyes as he watched blood start to pump from the wound. In a twisted way, it felt good. He deserved it. He was punishing himself for being a burden, for ruining everything for Dean and for bothering Bobby. He cut again, and again, and again, tears streaming and the pain slowly increasing. He started feeling light-headed, wincing as his head started hurting, his hands started to go numb. There was blood everywhere, soaked all over his teddy bear, his clothes, his hands. He staggered upstairs, reduced to crawling, leaving a trail of blood behind him.   
End it, Lucifer ordered, End it, Sam. You know what to do.  
“N-no,” Sam whimpered, his words starting to slur, “No…”  
Do it! Dean snapped, Do us all a favour!   
“Scared,” Sam mumbled, his skin growing paler, “Scared.”  
For fucks sake. He can’t even do this right, Dean muttered, just as Sam reached his bedroom. Teddy still clutched weakly in hand, he clutched the blade in the other, holding it over his arm with a shaking hand.   
Now, Sam! Lucifer shrieked in his ears, startling Sam and causing him to slice all the way up his arm.   
Bobby frowned as the Impala pulled up outside the house just as he was going back to check on Sam, “What the hell are you doin’ back already?”  
“Another hunter already got it covered, Bobby. Was no point in staying,” Dean got out the car, looking behind Bobby with a frown, “Where’s Sam?”  
“Inside, watchin’ a movie,” Bobby shrugged, “Wouldn’t go outside, and I needed to work.”  
“You left him on his own?” Dean’s voice took on an accusatory tone.  
“He’s fine, put a movie on and he calmed right down,” Bobby said in slight frustration, “I’m not stupid, kid.”  
“Whatever, I’ll go check up on him, guess he’ll be happy to see me,” Dean smirked, going inside while Bobby went to get himself a glass of water.  
“Sammy? Guess who got back early,” the older Winchester called, but got no response, “Sammy, you alright?”  
He jolted at the sight that greeted him in the living room. The movie was still playing, but there was no Sam. Instead, a pool of drying blood, accompanied by a trail of it leading out the room. Instantly, panic shot through Dean’s body.   
“Sammy!” he called, following the trail anxiously, “Sammy, are you alright?!”  
Bobby heard the commotion and went to see what was going on, gaping at the sight of the blood. His stomach dropped. If anything happened to Sam on his watch, he’d never forgive himself.  
“Bobby!” Dean cried out, and the older hunter found him knelt on the floor, holding his brother close in his arms. Sam was semi-conscious, dangerously pale and covered in blood. Bobby’s pocket knife sticky with blood on the floor.   
“He’s…” Dean was shaking too much to get the words out, getting up and grabbing Sam’s pyjamas from the bed and tying them around his arms, “Don’t just stand there!”  
“We gotta get him to a hospital, Dean. Now,” Bobby felt weak from the horror of it. He was so sure Sam was okay.   
“Castiel!” Dean yelled desperately, “Cas! Please!”  
“Dee,” Sam whimpered, slowly reaching his hand up to Dean’s face, “Dee.”  
“It’s alright, Sammy, it’s alright. I’m here,” Dean said as calmly as he could, “I’ve gotcha, little brother. You’re gonna be just fine.”  
The angel appeared in front of them, devastation on his face at the sight of it.   
“You gotta heal him, Cas. Please. He’s gonna…he’s not gonna make it if you don’t…”  
Before he knew it, he and Cas were in the hospital, holding Sam up, and Cas called for help. Sam was taken from their hold, taken away from them within seconds. All Dean could do was watch on helplessly, praying his brother would pull through.


End file.
